Author: Mark Spencer
There are so few upon this earth
Who walk a righteous path.
Some donít believe in paradise,
In Jesus, or Godís wrath.
And those who do will sometimes say,
Salvationís under priced;
That we can live as we so choose,
If we believe in Christ.
We can have our earthly treasures,
Big houses and fast cars;
This is the paradigm of those
Who live like movie stars.
But anyone who builds their house
Behind walls, strong and stout,
Does so to separate themselves,
And keep the rabble out.
But are there walls in paradise,
Or castles on a hill?
Do people separate themselves?
Do they lie, cheat or kill?
Does one cause harm of any kind,
For their personal gain?
Is anyone above their peers?
Does beauty make us vain?
Perfection defines paradise,
Itís where we are made whole.
There, perfect love and happiness
Embraces every soul.
No one competes against the next,
There is no love of gold.
No corporate ladders will you find,
No stocks are bought and sold.
Paradise has no football games,
No teams for you to choose.
If thereís nothing for you to win,
No one can ever lose.
No secrets live in paradise,
Deception cannot thrive.
There are no shepherds, save our Lord,
No power for to strive.
And you will find no body art,
No piercings, and no scars.
Nowhere will you find alcohol,
Cigarettes, or cigars.
No soul is straight, nor are they gay,
These things are of the flesh.
And when the world passes away
Our souls will start afresh.
But do not give a momentís thought
To being something more.
No lions live among the lambs,
And none will hear you roar.
There is a place for everyone,
For lions, and for kings.
A place for every single soul,
That clings to earthly things.
For those who take the world with them,
Their vanity and vice,
Will find, the place that calls to them,
Is far from paradise.
For paradise is absolute,
It canít be compromised.
Deceit will never enter there,
The truth canít be disguised.
The masks we wear upon this earth,
Will simply disappear.
Revealing who we really are,
The truth will be made clear.
You must be of a certain mind,
For paradise to call.
No earthly goals can fill your heart
Or you will surely fall.
And that includes those ďfaithfulĒ souls
Who THINK God separates,
Preventing those outside their church
From passing through His gates.
For there will be no ďusĒ and ďthemĒ,
Found in that perfect place.
No sinners, and no infidels,
With less of our Lordís grace.
And if such judgments cross your mind,
Youíll have no place to hide.
One thing alone inspires these thoughts,
The deadly sin of pride.
If bliss is not equally shared,
Itís measurement precise,
And some have more than others have,
It isnít paradise.
So if you are a special soul,
Enjoy it while you can.
For this too is an earthly thing,
The arrogance of man.
But who am I to say such things?
Iím nobody to you.
If I canít prove the things I write,
You doubt theyíre even true.
So follow any path you like.
If it should have a price;
Weíll learn the truth the day we reach
The gates of paradise.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Meri (22.214.171.124) -- Monday, August 15 2011, 04:34 pm|
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