March 31 2013
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Gambling is a sin, so never begin,
Money madness makes it more maniacal,
Stacks against itself the odds of real success,
It should see it’s blessed, learn to rest well,
Don’t send yourself to hell,
They bit the apple on the tree and I smoked its leaves. Yet, the sins I committed outside my body weren't enough for me. I kissed her lips and touched her skin. I cut my flesh for my dead spirit within.
Where do you see the sun rise in a sea of sinking sand-
When the hand of God is closed and death is so close to being a demand?
It's warmth beats down, taking its prize
Shouldn't it not be so much of a surprise
