Waste

Poem By Poetic Judy Emery

WASTE

To waste something good
is a pointless of the week
where evil takes you down while you sleep,
where wishing wells are always filled,
and words are no longer important
because all you had
has wasted away in the grave,
because of lack of faith.
Oh, counterfeit prophets
have no clue of what is true…
You are glue wasting away
in the darkest of your mind,
Oh, images of hues,
while your being used,
you lay out magnificent lies
to lead a stray to darken days
Oh, wicked souls your work is cold
But you still try to stand bold,
Your anticipation is on a long road
the route you choose to go
has been wasted long ago…
slow down and look around
all that is following you is the blind
that holds no sight in their eyes,
ridiculous hues are being used,
in a desolated waste,
a disclosed case;
your words have no value
no significant of use
just wasting away where all your
hopes and dreams are being decayed in a grave,
that is where you blind prophets will be,
even in the revisiting darken dreams
I have no use for someone like you,
Oh, come to me of the true Light
that hold everlasting love;
cast away the fear that is forsaken
that keeps the hearts broken,
with the passing of time,
where the pain is always at my door,
like a chore; trying to even out a score,
placing me in a cold darken room
being abused by lies,
that come to me day and night,
lye's vanity in the sight of he who haunts me,
but I will never give in to the darkness,
I committed myself to be tested,
To find all my own weakness
To change what I can to do right by true love,
I seem so many evil things in darken dreams
That kept me screaming and crying all the time,
Oh, how I felt I was dying, but so alive
feeling the agony of he who haunts me,
I see the scum all around the cage;
of those who lost their way
while they are wasting away in a dirty cage,
because they presented lies,
holding no true sight for what is right,
they are always muddy
being so fruity
but they never nudge for true love,
I sit alone in silence in a darken throne.
The crowds of darkness call me their queen
Of darken dreams;
Oh, how this makes me scream
I slide back my anger, and crush out the lies
I grab stronger and hold on longer to the visions
That is handed down to me,
Oh, how I see disaster upon the stained sands
Where true love has been misrepresented,
where demons are always with a mouth full of garbage
Playing out a tactful game of traps,
Where maliciousness and violence is always a game
of hate to make the slaves loss their faith,
but the true light is shining bright in the eyes of love
where they established peace even when they are
out to bleed like the sea on stained sand,
true love is unassociated with darkness,
Oh, your hateful waste you are polluting the cage.

Poetic Judy Emery © 2017 Time 12: 45 PM 017

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