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Refuse/Resist
by Jersey D GibsonTroubled times,
blood on the the street.
No time to run,
no time to leave.
Hands on the pulse,
finger on the trigger.
Bringer of death,
no path to salvation.
Blood on our hands have raised up to heaven!
The end times,
death on the streets.
Bodies everywhere,
skulls like tumbleweeds.
Blackened sky,
hides us from God.
Don't see our sins,
pity came to late.
Stain on our souls have called out for salvation!
Hell on the streets,
horsemen on the move.
Clutches on your soul,
no chance to be free.
Brimstone and fire,
eternal barbeque.
The final hour cometh,
blow you all away.
The damned God we believe in has forsaken us forever!
11/10/2004 Posted on 11/10/2004
Copyright © 2024 Jersey D Gibson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/15/04 at 12:28 AM Would make a great opening poem to the Terminator series Jersey. Chillingly apocalyptic, and yet at the same time beautiful in its darkenss. |
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