Jason Prowler’s Secret Book of Poems

[Jason Prowler]

July 14, 2013, 0300 hours

Judgment Day

Why have you chosen now to descend upon me?
Too much bloodshed has been wasted
Nothing will be the same
Many soldiers have fallen in battle
Hallowed be Thy Name

For what purpose have you for me?
To place me in such torment
To see all my brothers fall
For my anger I do not repent

I have taken life in battle
Without a second thought
For freedom, life, and your name
Disaster, torture, pain, I brought

So you question me for what I’ve done
For paradise, heaven, and bliss
Well I tell you now I don’t deserve it
Toss me into the abyss

I deserve to burn in flames
For my evil ways and sin
I should pay for every life I’ve taken
I should feel the agony within

I shall see the eyes of my victims
The screams of suffering and pain
You should allow demons to chastise me
Their deaths will not be in vain

But before you make your judgment
Keep this in mind
I’ve been lied to and deceived
Ultimately, I’m blind
I had no choice in situations
I’m a victim of circumstance
I’ve been hypnotized by dark minds
I’ve been placed into a trance
So my final question is to you
Where is my final place?

For my soul to rest
Am I damned or blessed?
What shall I embrace?

Jason Prowler [/font]

[Jason Prowler]

July 15, 2013, 0100 hours

Reanimate

Perhaps just a drop
A little lubricant to move these rusty joints
Creaking with each twitch

Perhaps some motivation
Cracks penetrating the surface
Rapidly extending along each limb
Countless dust particles burst and fly into the ambiance

The air settles
Perhaps some words
Fluttering fingertips imprinting letters excitedly forming new creations

Perhaps some inspiration
Opportunity
Imagination

Earthquakes rumbling from the movement of tectonic plates
Shake the state of this hypnotizing paralysis
Awakened to breathe new life into every line
Opening the all-seeing third eye

Revealing all unsaid thoughts
Each one sweating out every pore
Raining down the body quenching its thirst

Jason Prowler [/font]

[Jason Prowler]

Genie’s Lamp

Genie’s Lamp
One pound, dusty lamp
Fits in a palm of a hand
Dark red and black
Chipping paint revealing its metallic core

Its golden trimmings
Closely traced upon the surface
Creating images of leaf and flower
Smooth beneath, indented above

Its handle, a half broken heart, chained
By fourteen tiny links, loosely to its lid
That peaks like a volcano
But yet contained
Disguised as a mountain

[Jason Prowler]

Bumblebee

Black and Yellow
Maneuvering through the skies
Oh what goals do they have in mind?

Looping and swooping
Buzzing away
Not knowing if they will disappear or stay

Intimidating stingers, dangerous they may be
Entranced am I
While others may flee

Some may fear this little Apidae
But I find it serene
To watch them fly