take your eyes off the sights of heaven

i am sick of the gospel that drips the covenant of mercy

i am sick of the sermon that produces the poor in heart, the poor in pocket

God asks you to empty your pockets at the service

hardworker, where is the evidence of your suffering?

let jesus deliver you bread and water

the lord loves the story of a job

why then are we bothered with visions of the blessing ?

the most blessed of sons is my eternal joke

the light of the world is in the corner of the city shivering in cold

what is this talk of the saving grace that pata your back at the reality of suffering in hell on earth?

your prayers are rennovated beggings at a God that laughs at your sorrow

join the queue, whose blessings are to be delivered

blood, sweat, tears, turmoil and pain is expected in pain

the blood of the optimist and the positive will gush at the announcement of the sharp blade of poverty and suffering

i will leave the earth before it turns me to ash

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