A Mighty Mountain

A purple spire rises to the sky,
With sylvan stripes embedded in its robe,
It leers, a massive monster from on high,
It guards, a faithful sentry on patrol.
Its verdant with its purple rows entwine,
A garment shining, as with baited breath,
The silent grays with waking greens combine,
A tapestry displaying life and death.
It grapples with a hidden parasite,
A poison haunts its awful majesty,
It withers from the living all their life,
Eroding every facet’s unity.
While awesome beauty steals the stranger’s breath,
Each trembling spirit strives with life or death.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-June 19, 2010

138 Upon the Nature of Good and Evil

The skeptics say there is no good and bad,
Their broken way has taught them not to think,
For ev’ry action’s right or wrong, my lad,
These things your very might can never sink.
‘Tis very hard to tell of right and wrong-
Yet spirit knows full well the very things,
It says you ought to sing a certain song-
And is distraught when wrongful spirit sings.
If seen aright, perversion is the wrong-
The evil blight still seeks for something good-
The murderer may kill for justice’ song,
The theif’s down-battered will just longs for food.
The Evil search for good in wrongful ways,
So act the way you should, for virtue’s praise.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written January 28, 2007