Sorry to make Yall suffer through this, but here goes...
Finals (Hell) week
The head is throbbing, throbbing,
From Brandon's wretched coughing.
His eyes are red; his brain is dead,
His flesh shall soon be rotting.
His room mate is not helping,
With all his banging and a’ clanging,
And if he does not quit right now,
By a rope he'll soon be hanging!
To all my friends who's problems, tears, fears and pain are never ending and ever increasing:
The Yet Unset Divine Decree
O, why? Why must it be?!?
That those I love, cannot see?
They seek a joy that renders strife,
But seek not God, who renders joy,
Even mired in the woes of life.
My saddened soul aches for them,
I gently speak and plead with them,
For I know both the joy and the strife,
And Christ, my Lord, the giver of life.
This wonderful life He has to give
That those I love choose not to live.
O, why? Why must it be?!?
That those I love choose not to be free,
Free from pain and agony?
O, why? Why must it be?!?
That those I love choose not Thee?
‘Tis choice this source of wretched inequality.
‘Tis choice the yet unset divine decree.
This life they have they do not live,
Too full of pride, too lazy to see,
The Wisdom of God is the key,
The key to joy and security.
They seek a song or pretty face,
But not the blessings of God’s grace.
In bitter weeping, never ceasing,
Vain talk, and selfish thinking,
They cannot see, cannot see,
The very Truth that sets them free,
For they are lost inside themselves,
Blindly facing eternity.
There was this girl once...
The breathing creature stood fast in the darkness,
Awakened by a pleasing voice.
Mind on edge, pulse racing, eyes searching;
He looked frantically all about him,
For someone that was not there.
He spoke, but no voice answered;
He listened, but heard only silence:
The silence of the impersonal crowded masses so distant from him,
Silence pressed flat against the velvet blackness that swallowed him.
His passions dashed by the cruel vanity,
The breathing creature shrank to the ground;
In subdued desperation, he cried out.
He could not understand,
So he arose and fled once again to the farthest corner of the darkness,
To sleep, to hope, to wait for a voice,
For with a voice, a light would also come.
At the time, this meant something... I think...
Time is ticking past the plumber's dough,
swirling and whirling in the winds of war.
Summer heat beats the coldness in her heart,
long before rays of dawn toss fiery darts upon the sycamore.
While I'm at it I'll throw in a couple of my favorite quotes...
We are so apt, in our engrossing egotism, to consider all those accessories which are drawn around us by prosperity as pertaining and belonging to our own persons, that the discovery of our unimportance, when left to our own proper resources, becomes inexpressibly mortifying. — Sir Walter Scott, Rob Roy
notmyon2k3: actually I know what fo' shizzle my nizzle means
notmyon2k3: "Fo' shizzle ma nizzle" is a bastardization of "fo' sheezy mah neezy"
notmyon2k3: That, in turn, is a bastardization of "for sure mah nigga" which is in turn a bastardization of "I concur with you, my African-American brother."
"Every so often, I try to masturbate a large word into conversation, even if I'm not really sure what it means. " - Anonymous
™ Version 4.2
