By mstmha

Brashing was the sand
Rained in my face
Like desert storms
Quickening in its weathering.
Abrasive against my delicate skin.
Submissive was I to its covering.

No gear for protection,
Unhailing to the winds
Breeched was I as it unfold.
Systemed was its sands did crash
Personifying the wickedness
Of the boisterous bold.

Trapped was I
In its undertaking.
Insignificant was their lies as Job.
I only am escaped
Alone to tell thee
While cursing away the knob.

Wherefore is light given to him
That is in misery.
And life unto the bitterness
In soul.
No camels or sheep presented before me
Yet still hope for the future untold.

Frivilously flaunting
Their wares on display.
Uncaring was I within scorn.
Faith in the self of His create.
Running from nothing
But Satan’s perjured affords.

He reigned as if I had sold my soul.
As if begging to be appeased.
“Lie with me, Satan”, now assuming a taunt.
“Please take me, I do plead.”
“Take my life, my children, my world.
For now I am in dire need”

He preys as if
There is nothing more ambitious
Than to womb his Devil’s seed.
I am not in safety,
Neither have I rest
But God’s word has so just the scene.


About mstmha

Another Victim Of Gang Stalking...Digging In The Dark View all posts by mstmha

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