Agrippa's Indictment

There will be no moral outcry without the shedding of blood. The weapons of our warfare are not of this earth but they are powerful to tear down strongholds, taking every thought captive to Christ and tearing down every single high and lofty argument that sets itself against the knowledge of God. Unicef has left thousands in its wake as casualty counts grow amidst the differing of opinions and the mad lib constitution declaring peace. Much dreaming and many words are meaningless, empty, worthless, hollow, dead, obsolete, and fluff at best. Candy coated frivolities trickles down the ear canals as arousal beats down the eyes into subconscious euphoric ideology. We see the corpses as channels turn highlighting another reason why Zoloft prescriptions need to be refilled.
The bottle will be empty and the words will be tested. In the beginning was the WORD and the WORD was with God and the WORD was God. The WORD became flesh and the shouts from His blood rings out through every drop of rain, in every corpuscle of sand, of every tear, and every breath that is breathed. To and fro the hearts of kings are shifted as the lofty are dethroned. Who can build an empire? Who can create breath? Who can tactfully navigate the synapses firing in the brain? Acknowledgement has long been deferred to science, greatness is only as far as the Aryan race they say, once said but people keep looking for other examples and we may just be one more dead child away from finding the answer.

No one is righteous, not one. Far less than two or three and beyond the accomplishment of one righteous man. What can righteousness gain. What flaw can construct the perfect society without trampling the destitute or running from house to house with a noose looking for a scapegoat. Divine providence answers this question as homes and brothels are washed away in the wake of a tsunami.
As if the mortal can control the tide and a thousand butterflies beating there wings simultaneously will accomplish nothing if a voice cries out “Be Still!” So speak of worthiness. So speak of magnitude as the blood of the weak drip down your ever so nicely chiseled chin. I mean let us speak honestly, when was the last time one was born without inflicting pain and taking utter delight in the suffering of the so very worthy recipient.
Bel stoops down and Nebo falls low off of the carts along with the iPods and plasma screen televisions. All will become plunder and all will become dust. Which empire is that which will rise above entropy? Who commands the skies even now or paints the sunrise or sunset, even through the smog the radiant light bursts through the combustion of meager convenience. Trailer park trophy wives and wall streets window shades become the talk of the town as both collect dust with fervor.
As if within the confines of a conscious thought or originated idea can peace be spawned. Jump out of the hummer sporting Che on your shirt and write your manifesto in the crimson of there own blood they will fleet away to nothing. Communism brought us nothing more than 10,000,000 more graves, isolation, and a fourth Rocky flick, is the the epoch of man? Some sort of hope because like the drunk uncle in the corner is the knowledge that we cannot do anything on our own.

There is one who sees every tear that hits the ground the one who declares Himself to be the Father of the fatherless and the defender of widows in His holy habitation. Who judges the deeds of man and who holds the seas within the span of His hand. There is one who will wear crimson once again as He redeems for His sake those who have cried out for the salvation. The is one kingdom that will overcome and there is one who will avenge and it is His to repay. “Vengeance is Mine!” Thus sayith the LORD. He reigns from on High and His is the kingdom not made by human hands. The whirlwind will come and judge the hearts of man in a sieve and there will be a mess on the threshing floor. Blood will be shed as teeth are gnashed against there Creator.
What becomes of this vindictive Man? As if the great fascists could serve as counterparts as this appropriation of violence. By no means. God is LOVE. God is meekness and humble. God is the sustainer of life and is good to all. He cries out for those to enter into the kingdom of peace yet ears are shut and opinions are elevated.
A wise man heeds direction yet a fool delights in airing his own opinion so take heed all who pine after another manifesto. There is no Tyler Durden, he was all in your mind and will pass away just like the millions of other pipe dreams that spawn for ubiquitous iniquity. A high and lofty opinion will do nothing to alleviate the vendetta we all have. There is one vendetta higher than our own and it stands firm in the heaven shining forth the brightness and splendor of holiness. There is one who made for love and who was scorned. There is one who gave breath and is spat upon. There is one who bled and is parodied.

What is man that God is mindful of him? This goes beyond rhetorical but every answer holds its own gain and thoughts. There is nothing to marvel at except for the volumes of self righteous and inflated thought. Upon the dusty shelves of law offices spawn the decisions for why people do what they do and why AIDs is spreading through Africa and even why compromise becomes the best blanket unless someone happens to be a bigger spender. Yet there is a law that stands in heaven.
It stands firm assaulting every offender as guilty of high treason and shines as anarchy breeds under the guise of civilization and social contracts. Yet it is pure and all will fade away save for that which is found in the law and that which has been redeemed by such. The fruit was eaten and the tower’s foundations were in fact laid. The plans of man will be laid barren as the spiral into utter deprivation of that which they were knit together for. Sheep go to heaven and goats go to hell but all we end up wanting is a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket. We have built our religions and built them bigger by widening the corridors and adding more lanes. Yet in the previous statement all that stands out for the most part is the fact that I (the writer) is or at one time was a Cake fan.

Oh but to speak of love with utter joy and full blown exuberance. Beyond the confines of the most articulated sonnet breathed from the pen of the greatest writers of all time heralds that which is solace love and beauty. A regal joy holds attention as the thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters concoct nonsense that which was done goes thoroughly through the gate of incoherent babble to that of awe filled silence enveloped in mysterious light and color surpassing visions the temporal can even fathom. This is love. The uncreated on a rugged piece of would; held onto a thing in which He held together with the word of His own power and created good. Bearing the full cup of wrath for His enemies to bring them into utter pleasure and euphoria, that day calling forth the condemned to join Him in Paradise.
Awaken you kings and awaken you peasants. Proletariat and Bourgeois alike this is your redemption. There is a king who will come and reign. The lines are being drawn between territories just as His hands drew in the sand whilst forgiving a harlot. Do not rage against the mercy for wrath will be poured out and blood will be avenged. Under the Scarlet fountain sins are atoned for and the sinful nature is dashed like pottery. His blood will cover all including the prominent “A” we all wear. Jealousy is a husbands fury and the drops of a bucket are about as much regard as the fortunes of men. It will fall. Advancement goes beyond petty servitude. Humility paves the path letting the only righteous one be judge and jury. Your heroes will all be dead yet there is one who is alive. Who can trust man who has but a breath in his nostrils.
Beyond manifesto and beyond writ the kingdom moves forth the Father of lights who sustains His children. The vapor of all that is done under the sun will flee away as soon as He splits the skies yet He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground how much more will He avenge, uplift, uphold, and bless His children. He is love. He created laughter and song and still is opposed. In His presence is fullness of joy. His adversaries will quake at His presence and He will come with the shout of the archangel. Look to the sky heed the warning. The shadow is coming. The shadow is coming. The WORD became flesh and will break out of the cliché He has been made.

Night will be no more.
There will be no more tears.
There will be no more death.
The increase of His government and peace will know no end.
Their worm will not die out.