QUOTE OF THE DAY

QUOTE OF THE DAY:
It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.
Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)

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Thursday, February 17, 2011

THE DEAD CHURCH

The church is dead;/ the coffin is its bed/ where it lays its head./
 It’s supposed to protect us but instead/ it robs us of our daily bread./
 On their own they close their eyes,/ that’s no surprise/ But they insist salvation is of no price./
 We live but we are hardly alive./ They receive while we hardly survive./
 We give for them to enjoy their extravagant life./
 Church was where God dwells,/ nowadays church is where a pocket swells./
 Where to conduct miracle sales,/ where anointing oil, holy water sells./
 So come time for worship they ring the church bells/ to remind you to come and feed their corrupt selves./
 Church lost meaning when they stopped preaching about His Grace/ and started preaching material success./ They charge to bless!/
 Church ministers comfortable with the congregation worshipping them like gods and goddesses./
 Love became less and less/ and unless/ you offer them something you are considered as a mess./
 Jesus will come like a thief in the night./ The church comes with thieves in day light./
 And so now we know they lied./ They say they use the offering to take the church to greater heights./
 I won’t be shocked if the congregants start asking for receipts/ coz they are tired of these deceits./
They want a bigger congregation so they add more seats./
 They don’t want to bring people to salvation but they are only interested in their treats./
Church full of many little mischiefs/ and yet they call us the misfits./
 The church pushed me away./ They say/ they preach the gospel but instead of showing me the way/ they led me astray./

This is the story of a church’s end/ that was once reverend/
Just before the world ends there will be incest,/ intense/ mind games, love of money and sex./
 Churches preaching material success,/ anti-church protests,/ false prophets,/ evil will simply manifest/ the honest will detest./
 Churches and holy tricks/ pastors in politics./ Congregation exchanging blows like little Evander Holyfields./
 This is the life that we are living in./ we need a cure, we need medicine./
 Churches are being burnt like we have never seen./
 Pastors preach to please/ and don’t teach but tease/
 So instead of preaching and teaching they are cheating and teasing,/ squeezing/ us off our last earning calling it offering and tithes./
Immoral pastors blaming it on our sisters’ short skirts and tights./
 Church fights/ for power and rights./
 No one is spotless,/ yes,/ even the priests preaches/ angels but rolls with witches./
 He says/ the churches/ are real but in real sense/ they focus less and less/ on spiritual growth but we still live coz of his mercy and Grace./
 So he places/ his hands like he blesses/ but in place he takes ‘S’/ and leaves us with ‘HIT’ so he thinks he stinks less/ and in the process/ he leaves us lifeless./
 So we don’t make progress/ coz protégés/ of selfless/ characters are not found. So we end up living with fake promises,/ hopelessness/ as seen through our faces./
 We need no assistance/ to see the corrupt systems/ for instance/ our sisters/ hurt with certain misters,/ relatives, church ministers./
 And counseling based on horizontal basis/ and fake church selection processes/ and supporting them with verses that are baseless./
 They watch the rich oppress the poor/ while they praise to be pure/ and yet they live no space for cure/ of poverty.
The followers are living in tents/ while they live in mansionettes./ Members are running on credit debts,/ their diaries full of auctioneer dates./
They teach fakes lessons/ and they wonder why nobody listens/ and don’t even take note as the faith of their congregants lessens./  
They  lead/ by greed/ and the hungry they never feed./ actions speak louder than words but from them we hardly ever see a good deed./
This is the story of a dead church/ that needs to come back to being God’s Church/

(LOVE)


I do not say I know love, /
Nor place my relationship above/ others like others have. /
 I do not say I know the difference between love and hate, /
Yet/ it’s not something I can test. / I only attest/ to what I feel is best, /
That which touches what is in my chest. /
It is hard to believe in love, something you cannot see. /
People debate whether it is a feeling or an ability. /
Some say love is a tool to vulnerability. /
I agree/ that I prefer reality/ coz love doesn’t know me. /
I do not say that love is bad, / some say love is hard, /
Some claim love is something they’ve never had/ let alone heard/ about.
 I do not say I know how love feels, / some say it brings chills/
…but so does disease/ and yet you insist/ that this is/ LOVE.
Love, I do not say I know where to go look for it, /
Maybe we passed each other so many times I just never saw it. /
So let me not force it/ coz I cannot foresee/ whether I will ever get to show it. /
 I do not say I know but who knows? / I think love is curious coz it comes and goes/
…not something we share common goals/ with.
Coz when it’s tired of you it leaves and leaves open doors/ again.
So why should we be living/ a life that we do not believe in. /
Something that has left many grieving. /
Something that made Mr. Right to turn bitter and he left, /
And changes Miss Right to a Mistake. /
 I do not say I know where love comes from. /
You cannot call love on the phone/ and ask it if it’s at home. /
That’s why I decide to leave love alone. /
You just don’t go up to love and say ‘hey love, I want you!’/
And you know that’s true/ but unfortunately that’s what most people do. /
I know of a friend who says he believes/
But his heart bleeds/ from the thorns of the rose he picks. /
So he speaks /of the memory that slips/ and dips/ in a well full of deceit/ 
So he freaks/ and flips/ making him feel like he is deceased. / 
But still he insists! /
One thing that I know is that the rose he picked, /
Pricked/ his heart leaving him dead and with his final strength he breathed/
And gripped/ for mercy from love only to find out that he was tricked. /
The little butterfly that he held/ stung him and just watched him as bled. /
 And he said, / ‘you can’t kill a heart, but you can break it, leave it weak but not dead.’ /
A sting from the butterfly that he praised, / raised/ to levels like no other had bred, /
Instead/ it mutated/ and to the dungeons his heart it led. /
It fed/ from his heart finally tearing it into shreds/.
And that’s when he knew love ain’t so lovely so he tried hatred. /
According to me love is a being. / Love is not a thing. /
 Love is not brought by the love songs that you sing. /
Especially love in brackets is something/ not worth seeing. /
Love might be living in/ you wanting to be seen/
But you hide it coz you don’t want to dig deep within. /
You surround yourself with walls anyone trying to show you their love they have to be breaking in. /
Let love live life. / And you will never strife. /
Love attracts love/ and I pray sooner than later we all would have. /