A Season Spent Just Above the Abyss
A SEASON SPENT JUST ABOVE THE ABYSS
Getting smacked around by the righteous fist of Jesus Christ
Is a frightening thing indeed!!
“El Capitan” was truly a Just and Loving Lion King
Who, like the fictional Aslan,
Was martyred for our own good
On a splintered block of wood.
He led and fed and then bled so that we might have hope.
He then ordained Simon Peter as the first Catholic Pope.
So rich are the rewards of those under His protection
Yet the fiery price is too steep
For those who stray and disobey.
After all, how can it be considered Just
That a sinful soul must forever burn?
That is a reality that I shall never learn!!
If lowly me were to be asked,
I would contend that Jesus Christ, The (Over) Lord overreacts
Though His Love is Blessed and pure,
He requires anger management for sure!!
Most of us would probably agree that the wicked should be punished,
But in a scorching Lake of Fire!!?
For an eternity, no less!!?
What a horrible price to pay for ending up cursed
If lowly me were to be asked,
It’s overkill
I feel like I’m near the gates of hell right now,
Singing dreary songs
About how sinners might be joining the foul devil before too long
“You know, I went to the edge
I stood and looked down
You know, I’ve lost a lot of friends there baby,
Ain’t got no time to mess around - Van Halen “Ain’t talking bout love”
I myself, am paying a heavy price
For being prone to vice
For in The (Over) Lord’s eyes
I indulged myself in many guilty pleasures
I also have stored up many pleasures in Heaven
Yet that Wondrous place is now far away
And for now I must pay
In my Life, so full of strife,
There was too much sex and violence
Pornographic, though not sadistic
Though many warriors and soldiers ended up as statistics
In God’s eyes, I was a hoar who engaged in pseudo- war
That bordered on socio- or psycho-pathic,
Though I wasn’t an evil prince and princess,
that ,s why I’ll end up in bliss
After suffering this
This definitely though is a rough chapter in this former werewolf’s life
I was Johnny Blade with a mythical knife.
Though I only cost San Mateo county a million bucks
And mostly in better times
When it could be economically managed,
There was more damage in my mind
Where millions were slain and many wounded
The U.S. Military is partly to blame
For violating lowly me
Those bastards!!
“Sarge” said I was worthless and couldn’t fight,
Yet he still wielded the power to draft
This headbanging military philosopher and transvestite
“Destroy somebody else’s Religion, Culture and sex life!!”
I cried as I defied
Recruiting a fictional Fritz for my make- believe Liberal Blitz
Adolf ‘Hister” was jailed, but given a pen,
Stalin was the foe and possessed more men
But my arms were superior
As were my tactics
My legions were composed of fanatic Liberal fascists
who fought like spastics
I attacked with panzers and planes,
Plied by crystal- clear visions of the carnage
A good portion of the foul devil’s “Lying signs and wonders”
Fighting with over- zealous vengeance was a blunder
I had been a nice guy until I was so wronged, it was almost rape
I was violated as badly as Patty Hearst.
She was actually drafted whereas I just felt the fear.
Yet “Sarge” threatened to stomp out much of what I held dear.
The lesson is clear
Headbanging hippies can fight,
Forced conversion of transvestites is a crime,
And perhaps, it’s in hell where “Sarge” will do his time
I just ought to make sure that I don’t join those damnable
Marine corps drill instructors down there.
The Eland at the zoo warned me to beware
He did so with his stare
“The foul devil possesses many snares”
The beast seemed to say formonically
Sex and violence are two of the worst
And in hell, many a porn star has ended up cursed
You ought to understand
I was a man of great sin even in a biblical sense
My apocalyptic journey began early but mostly kicked in
When I was a young man and dared to stand against society
I tried to raise a trio of grand armies;
Not comprised of plebes, “Government Issues” owned by the state
The militias I had in mind would have been not as disciplined
As the U.S. Marines, but more believing in freedoms
It was not meant to be, and my rage led to infamy.
Across the Russian steppe,
My legions dished out hell on hooves, boots,
Tracks and wheels
Yet, now I feel how being to recipient feels.
I am in purgatory and this is my story.
Across the steppe I once crept
Now, a former smoker, I trudge with beleaguered steps
And though I grieve
It doesn’t make it any easier to breathe.