The Devil Prowls Like A Roaring Lion, Resist


Flesh, nourishment, slabs, losa, chunks of meat, food for a roaring lion, tender victuals, a hungry beast for the demon may roam behind a warriors lovely mane. But it is with a razors edge, a deep incision, the final episode, wonderful tissue, a marvelous catch as there is no way to avoid the clutches, like corroded rust on a thorny nail cutting through the surface, the devil's prowl into wide-open territory away from the flourishing jungle, into the darkness, coal-black joyless fragments, a dismal sedentary night.

Take Your Sickle And Reap Because The Time Has Come, For The Harvest Of The Earth Is Ready And Ripe:
Soon it shall all be there, the questions, the answers, the knowledge will make its way upon a grey cloud, a winsome fairy, a miraculous event, a full-fledged tarried pie. In the end it shall be revealed, the quandary, the standstill, the deadlock, the impasse, the sanctity of her solitary loin, the madness of her mind, the moistness of her heart, her cantankerous quivering lip.

Five Devil Poems:
The Jew and Christian (The Lone Bird) - A desert tribe, watered, darkened the stones with shadows, where did they come from, out of some south-eastern window - The ebb, its flow has lasted 4000-years, And many pieces of humanity: men, women and children, gathering from many nations, having become part of that flow Swarmed with voices, Christians and Jews waited on the world-breach: When Christ left, and the new age began! They went off together, Christian and Jew, the limit was...

Twenty-Four March Poems:
1 Obama's Intentions All that troubles me is that I have long foreseen, Obama's original scheme, it has always been to weaken America, as if to place it at a level with its unfriendly so called friends; thus, the advantage which she now holds over them through possessing capital and above all military superiority will come to an end, and be easily outweighed by the fact, its enemies will hold an equal advantage if not superior. They will have ample skill and experience for warfare, and nuclear capability will...

Saint Antony's Nightmare (Revised):
Saint Antony: 'The dead are pale, faded, they stock each other, live in the eyes of the past, bewildered, and profound -' The ascetic sees demons in the shape of beasts, and the remnants of the Gates of Ctesiphon, are piled all about them - Their black cloaks are fastened by dead men's bones! They flog one another, and laugh at their aching limbs and burning caresses... Their hair fastened by vipers, and the face of: Cain, Sodom, and Pilate, Nero stares at Antony, as Judas yelps: "Thanks to me God saved the world!" Those faces are made of wolf-skin, they are envious of Antony's dog's bone meal. The old ones, older than written time, from the pre-Adamic era, are all dried up, like mummies - Their glances dull; they have long white eyebrows they are eating grasshoppers, and at the same time, as their mouths quiver exclaim: 'Come, come, be swift about it, there are no crimes here, the need here below is of the love of God, and He is gone! We are made for the Devil!' Knouphis lights some argil lamps, gives light to Antony's nightmare, more like a vision now -

In Another Sign In Heaven, An Enormous Red Dragon Swept A Third Of The Stars Back Down To Earth:
Petulant, fragrant, cool green figure, verdant hustle, silent beret, army muscle.. Despite reports there is no backlash, how could there ever be. So rattle those bones as there might be gates crashing to undo a lonely god for thine is the wisdom, the power and the glory.

Five Poems (The Mirror of the Truth, Monsters, Eschatological Regression and Others):
The Mirror of the Truth - A bleeding cloud envisioned into the mirror of a water-eye is like a face losing its lines, or like a flower withering in a falling field. The wind developing breasts among three limbs of a tree is like an ancient, African, tribal woman dancing in a wedding ceremony, while seeking for cheerfulness. In reality, there are only a cloud nascent to rain, an eye opening to peek the luminousness, and a tree fighting to save its own flowers. Due to the mirrors, everything looks like being always complete, but this exhaustiveness can be real or not. In the mirror of the aqua, never the sky can be itself, and never its pearls can be extant. In the mirror of a lie, maybe the truth looks like verity, nevertheless it may never be a certainty. But, in the Holy mirror, The Lord is human and the human being is divine, and our hearts can be candles lightning love for our Lord.

Whoever Hates His Brother Does Not Know Where He Is Going Because The Darkness Has Blinded Him:
Oh how it may fester the aversion, the enmity, the odium, the animosity, the animus, ill will. But it must come from somewhere and a small opening may be the place because there are so many projectiles that must leave an irrefutable mark. But let no man sit in judgement as there are few who have ever escaped the dark for there are countless trips to encounter in a life that may be uncertain, to say what should be obvious, independent, anything more needn't be expressed in any way at all, yet everything must come together and character is a factor that may have little impact, for better or worse this is the way it may sometimes seem.

The Angel Took The Censer And Filled It With Fire From The Altar And Hurled It Onto The Earth:
In flashes of thunder, pearls of lightning and rumbles on the earth the angels ravage, the damage and destruction for there was no time to seek consolation advance succor or imbibe in a constant flame. There was nothing to be found lying there in the dirt, only tiny embers little members found dying in a lowly mirth.

They Are Springs Without Water, Mists Driven By A Storm, Black Darkness Is Reserved For Them:
Arid, wither no water from the well. Parched lips, fingertips, sucking the teat, bone dry. Still there is memory about the way it once was when elephants lived in darkness somewhat removed from the ordinary hook and trammel, loyal servants imbued in their own special milieu lumbering through the depths of a neon jungle searching for the essential means to exist raised upon humble pie meandering through the dense thicket at night yet this does not necessarily mean that there are no real alternatives it just means that returning to what had once been expected may create unpleasant feelings to say the utmost or the very least.
The Devil Prowls Like A Roaring Lion, Resist The Devil Prowls Like A Roaring Lion, Resist Reviewed by ESATRA on 5:16:00 AM Rating: 5

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