This is part 3 of the Messneger series. Many more to come. My heart is stirred over the loss of millions that are living life without Christ, without the way of redemption; unsaved. We are the Sons adn daighters of the living God which means we are his mouthpiece and as the world grows darker we shall shine brighter and if speaking the truth means death on this side then we have done what He has asked us to do; represent Him.

 

Shoot the Messenger, Save the Passenger

 

Humanistic

Speak tricks

Wrapped around

With syntax

Playing the Sax

Steaming the sound

Of the sentimental

Vibration

 

Men, women,

Who died for

Their nation but

Did not regard the

Master of all Creation

 

Altruistic syntax

Blown up by

Public speech

Giver, seeking

The river of the

Human mine,

Open, without

Token, He, She

Has spoken,

Where shall they

Take their broken

Life like a passenger

On a plane,

Flying against

The grain

Who do they stand

For, And who do

They blame? Are we

Not all the same,

Singularity the way

Who should they worship?

And is it really worth it?

 

Passenger life in vain,

Smothered by

Self good,

 

Shoot the Messenger,

Or wait for later because

What I am saying is the

 

Passenger never came

To the altar, they never

Drank His water,

Sat at his streams

Of free goodness,

Rather they lived

Void of godliness

Like mammals in

Hibernation they

Engulfed in humanization

Spoke like arrows

Piercing the elusive

Heart that gives way

To the sway of the

Evil one

 

Like said before

Shoot the Messenger,

Pleading subpoena

To save the arena

Of the Passenger,

They won’t relent,

Self pleasure

Is their treasure

Human rights their

Activist, mercy sunset

Not apart of it,

Redeem them

For they know

Not reality,

They have no

Clarity,

Sties have

Blinded their

Eyes, God of

This age—their minds.

 

Shoot the Messenger,

For they reach out

To the Father,

Surrogate the hate,

Stand in the chasm

Of the self phantom,

Already dead spasm,

Yes, til death do us

Part, God, you have

Our heart.

 

Shoot the Messenger,

Save the Passenger

On the road paved

With good intentions

And more inventions

To cause an uproar

They are Hell bent,

But your Son, you

Sent, Come and

Save, Messenger

Won’t relent, even

If shot to death.