Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
By Mark Bishop
And I, a light traveling home
Passed by weary travelers who had long since lost their way.
My radiance displayed the road that they could follow.
Though it be fraught with peril and truth that's hard to swallow.
I past those camped round little fires destined to burn out.
Some let themselves desire the light others turned to shout
"I'm happy here leave me alone, I'd rather go without."
Some came to ask me, why the darkness? Why are men blinded so.
Who left us in the blackness without saying where to go?
I said "come, taste, believe so you can know" some did but
others said there is no answer for this woe.
I passed others who screamed "go away you blackened fiend
you stand in the way of all we've dreamed"
They had confused this hoar for a wife yes they had exchanged hope
for strife and taken death instead of eternal life and schemed
to rid their prison from any beam or ray of goodness that make
them question their decision.
Some commented, look another part of all that is.
A distinct segment of a complex whole.
'Tis all just passing, his way is no more lasting
then our own.
But there is no union between darkness and light
no place between wrong and right
to marry is not to wish for a fight
to be blind is not to have ones sight
to be redeemed must be a sinners plight
because there aren't any other options.
As I traveled on my light grew bright
the one who gave it held me tight
My hope was placed in heaven's delight
though my heart broken and contrite
I did not deserve to enter in the presence of the king
And I was overcome to hear the saints all sing
"Glory to Christ! Let freedom ring! for we have found our home,
I too was once a desperate traveler lost and all alone."
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
By Mark Bishop
I cry but for what reason?
I mourn but what treason has befallen this soul?
What condemnation do I now stand under that my joy and peace are rent asunder
There is none but only Christ who paid in full the greatest price
Yet I still find my sadness pressing
I still think my wounds need dressing
When a holy King was torn apart to save a lost and still ungrateful heart
How can I even start to describe this depravity pulling me down like gravity
When I think my life's a tragedy that He cares nothing for.
I am the chief of sinners nothing more but it's just this shamefulness He bore
and how I know His grace is sure
It's why He has to win this war,
because I never can.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
By Mark Bishop
Have you seen the way she dresses and how many shots she took
See how he impresses people just to get a look
Did you hear how he was bragging
Did you see her stomach sagging
At least I didn't throw up,
I wasn't even gagging,
She's a slut, he's a fag
they're retarded, what a tool,
workaholic, anorexic, sex addicted, selfish cruel
wife abuser, steroid user, liar, boozer
just a stool for our pride we use to elevate ourselves
we don't seem so bad when we're compared to someone else
but life is not a competition
it's a battle with high stakes
we've all forsaken strongholds
He died for all our sakes
what a lovely field of whitewashed tombs our crooked judgment makes
when some people are sinners and some just make mistakes