Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

What would I be if I did as you say,
Tis not the truth you preach but your dismay,
expressing your own doubts and doubting still,
that what you speak of, you cannot fulfil.
You hear the voices of your own despair,
Seek immunity to establish your repair,
And in false sanctuary anoint yourself as free,
by looking down upon the world and me.
Never is mortal man so cleansed of sin,
For his nature is to lose his life or win,
For in this world survival is a must,
Lest all our kin be wasted in the dust.
Ah! God may well be waiting in the sky,
But here on Earth we live until we die.

~ 2 ~

There is an umpire right for every game,
Mans referee is God; the very same
He makes the rules to keep the battle fair,
But still they bite and pull each others hair.
None are wiser than the average man,
Nor free of all the things you’d like to ban,
And those who ruined lives that they could win,
Are never free from that dreadful sin.
It takes some courage to accept the way we live,
Requires the taking of the lives we give,
That the more deserving in the world survive,
For tomorrow’s youth must be kept alive.
And the more you interfere and preach of God,
The more we rot and wither in the sod.

~ 3 ~

For what is war if not a church debate,
That from biased love creates the will to hate,
All claiming truth is theirs and all are wrong,
Who fail to follow doctrines and sing along.
Can they all be right? Well no! They all think not!
Which is the one who claims to have the lot?
Whose Book is right? Who has the magic pill?
Which doctrine do we choose all heads to fill?
There are no Angels on the battlefield,
Though crosses deck their necks sharp swords they wield,
For though we preach the gentleness of truth,
We slaughter one another to supply the proof.
But not the proof we all do pray to see,
While we pretend to not the other be.

~ 4 ~

So while we like to dream and nurture hope,
And do our best with life to fight and cope,
The friend you must rely on is yourself,
And the bloke who needs your friendship for his health.
The mistakes you make are your mistakes to make,
You light the oven and then you bake the cake.
And then you eat as you might choose to do,
And being proud of that is what will make you true.
From all the half-sane preachers on this Earth,
We reap the prejudice that gives the demon birth,
For once you narrow all the trails to one,
Then congestion and corruption has begun
And that which makes us wonderfully unique,
Is turned into some stupid one-eyed freak