A Tour Of Hell...A Place for The Lost

In a troubled dream
Featuring lots of screams.
The theatre is a troubled mind,
Though it's sleep but the nightmarish kind!

Upon entering Hell's rusty gates,
Eyes are assailed by dark visions,
Here,no sun to shine,
Light barred from penetrating even as a mine.

Silence, ...then suddenly!
A piercing scream shatters it unceremoniously!
This elicits a mad laughter!
A sadistic ha ha!

Metallic sounds of shackles dragging
Against hard concrete flooring.
Mournful wails and groans,
From men jailed for unpaid loans!

Realisation of being lost hits
Like a cascading ton of bricks.
Mercy has been withdrawn and is no more unobtainable
Fierce judgement instead has become readily available

This is the end of the broadway,
Paved with pleasures and even good intentions!
On this way, many murdered their conscience,
Accusing it of always being loud and pricky
Though it was always soft spoken and never tricky

Ignorance is no appeal,
Sentence pronounced,beyond repeal!
Remorseful prayers are useless here,
Memories of squandered opportunities hanging in the air,
Psycologically haunts and torments!

Though the tears may come as floods,
The burning lake will not have it's flames stopped
Every tearful drop, an igniteable fuel poured

Though this is only a dream,
Allow it to be a reality check,
Not to be seen as an attempt to scare!

An Original:
I hope you would hate this place enough to avoid ending down there.

Time Study

Let’s look at time, it can stand still,
It can be misused, it can be wasted.
It can go too fast, it can go too slow,
It can be kept, it can be drug out.

It can be used wisely, it can be used foolishly,
It can be stopped, it can be started.
It can be used to heal, it can get rid of a grudge,
It can get rid of hate, it can mend a broken heart.

It can be killed, it can be saved,
It can be squandered, it can become spare.
It can be called Father, it can be called sugar,
It can be called fine, it can be called hot.

It can be good, it can be nice,
It cannot be hoarded, it cannot be amassed.
It cannot be carried around, it will not replace anything,
It can be old, it can be used to reflect.

I could go on and on,
But I’ve run out of time.

God's Omnipresence Stretches To Art!

An amazing truth I have found with God is His omnipresence!How far does this truth stretch ?
David amongst other things did say that if he were to take his bed to hell,to hide from God, God would be there .Notice,God is in Hell!His presence extends that far.
I have found God in poetry too.The whole book of psalms and others like Songs of Solomon are rendered in poetic patterns.Of course, there are works spurned by perverted imagination that only gives release to intellectual trash.That can in no way discount the authentic.
The reason for this intro, is to let everyone , that may want to slice me with their rusty blade of judgement,to open the closure that is their mind, so the message can seep in.
Through this medium, I have found the answer, to an ageless question( stated simply).
Why does God allow some horrendous evil to befall those whom He loves and who love him, when he could easily forestall it ?

What do we gain by suffering?
The priceless gift of Compassion.
What do we win through our sorrows?
Deeper capacity for joy.
What profit from self –sacrifice?
Awareness of the larger SELF.
Fruit reaped from bitter episodes?
Profound relish for kind sweetness!