Montag, 26. März 2018

Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids poetry (21)


Who is the Nothing.
 He is:    The one we fail to see!
But he sure does not like it to find a soul that’s free.
Loves to control weak mortal men, loves to play boss.
Never cares for human pain or freedom they have lost.
Plans his unassuming games with Wim’s of Ne-ga-ti vi ty.
 Destroyer of man’s precious souls, ruthless Ad-ver-sa ry.

Where then is the Nothing?
He is:  Round us everywhere.
He’s favoured place the hearts of folks who do not care,
 Folks fallen for his threatful game
 That brings but tears and grief and pain.
Souls that do not know the road of misery and who.
Should you care not to belief, go and watch the news,
 Wake up your sleepy souls, behold the naked truth. 
This world of ours knows far too much misery and grief.
 Mother earth longs for some peace and blessed sweet relief.

Where did the Nothing come from?
 From Godly realms on high.
Thought to destroy man’s agency, caused turmoil in the sky
Thus, Father cast him to the earth, drove him from his sight.
Many followed him that morn, whilst the heavens cried.
Down here he’s still unhappy, as well he ought to be,
Wanting us to join his ranks and all their misery.

So, let us heed Gods warning, be valiant and see.
That only faith and fervent prayer will grand our life
From master ”Nothing “free.

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