This know also, that in the last days
perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves,
covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful,
unholy. Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent,
fierce, despisers of those that are good. Traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers
of pleasures more than lovers of God; Having a form of godliness, but denying
the power thereof: from such turn away.
II Timothy 3:1-5
It’s easy to mock now,
no more barriers,
no more inhibitions,
godlessness the avant-garde,
cool, hip, chic;
truth irrelevant;
poetry has become an abstraction,
a train wrecked shambles,
a self-indulgent journey into
self-imposed decadence,
the only purpose
masturbation of the mind;
without rhyme,
but more importantly,
without reason;
snotty, excitable little twits,
so full of themselves they can barely walk,
let alone write about things they understand
even less;
fluffy little balls of bullshit,
stuck in the diarrhea of their words,
political correction and self-satisfaction
going hand in hand;
a religion for the masses;
everyone is a poet today,
everyone a self-made god,
everyone is okay and getting better,
everyone is capable of greatness,
everyone is master of their own fate;
it is our culture,
it is our society,
it is our psychology,
it is our national anthem;
it is what we have become.
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