GRAVEYARDS

Have you ever bedded with the evil?
Have you felt the ice of their touch?
Did you taste their filthiness?
Or find their bones were rotting?
Just decaying away?
Crumbling to the soil?
To become a part of the earth?
How did you react at the realization
Of no escape?
How much oxygen did you have left
Before the rescue?
Where did their blood in the veins seep to?
In your mouth?
How did you open your eyes?
If you’ve never bedded with the evil… yet,
Never encounter the souls of this world.
For they are full of pure evil.
And this is the graveyard.

10-29-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: The many friends who have been murdered.
Death has been very present in my life since as early as 3 (earliest I can remember).
Social workers and counselors were constantly telling my mom and dad, as well as myself, that we had experienced too much death. In foster care, they would even refuse to allow us to go home on weekend visits at times because of this. In high school, in a juvenile detention center, and on juvenile probation, they continued to say the same thing… because death KEPT occurring around us, including murders of our family and friends. The Lord has provided seasons of no deaths, or at least not by cruel murders. The last several years it has been more age and disease related, but unfortunately many have been cruel in their own way.
Having Christ makes all the difference. Not only did He suffer His own cruel death despite His innocence, but He lost His beloved Cousin John the Baptist to a senseless murder/execution.
Praise God for taking our loved ones to be with Him, where death has NO MORE STING!

In The Depths of Despair

A blood stain upon my clothes, leaves a clue behind that tells the world my knight in shining armor has plunged his lance into the weakness of my soul. I’m left to endure the agony of betrayal, the horrid of deception. I cannot stay upon my own feet. Weakening even more so, I am lifeless. I fall to the soil of the earth.

…Ah, and alas, the kiss, of the taste of the earth is far more refreshing than the air, I soon will no more breathe. Yet, within all the aching, I still yearn for the arms of my fallen hero. For what would I do in the after world of paradise, if I cannot even kiss my Roman warrior… good-bye

Oh… but then I am reminded by the pain from within my heart, the pain urging the blood to seep upon the soil, by which I am romanced by. It could only be that the ecstasy I once felt from my reigning Casanova, is now the depths of despair.

9-10-89 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)
PS… I no longer think of a Roman Warrior as a hero now.
No one is mightier than my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!
Love is Christ focused.