Category Archives: Life

Ode To Family

On this day of birth, I will look back and see,

And tell of all the love that was given to me.

It was not long ago, nor much time to certain eyes,

That I was a child, who would receive many a surprise.

But the greatest gift ever given to me,

Was the love that would make me to be.

Looking back I can tell and remember of many a reply,

That would build in me and within, my strength solidify.

Though the years have come and given us leave.

I will never forget those within my family,

Who have loved this child and have formed my eyes,

I will remember all of them, for they are my prize.

To them I owe all of what I am to be,

For they made me be who I am to be, Me.


-Coram Deo

What Distance Ate

Distance has captured my love,

He will not let her go.
No matter how hard I pull,

He always runs the show.


I tried to free her from his chains,

Of silver and hard stone.

I pushed hard and hard I pulled,

Yet he didn’t even groan.


Distance is a formidable foe.

And hard he is to fall.

I called loud after my love,

Yet distance ate my call.


I tried to run and get her,

To pull her from his grasp,

But he wouldn’t have it,

He wouldn’t let me pass.


So now here I sadly sit,

To watch time’s passing by,

I wait here so silently

Waiting for just one more try.


-Coram Deo 2-18-05

Unseen Crime

It is a crime committed by them all,

Large, small, short, or tall.

It will not stop, this crime,

For it is a matter of time.


The tick brings on the tock,

And in it we see a lock.

One that we cannot break,

Or with us try to take.


Rather it has taken us,

Farther into its rust.

It seeps like sand,

In and out of our hand.


Its degrading nature,

Predicts our future,

Points to our demise,

And then passes us by.


Around and around it goes,

When it stops no one knows.

But with each wind,

It eats our precious time.


With each bite of its teeth,

It gives us no relief.

Slowly it devours skin,

And burns us within.


Their crime is their time,

While we sit and pine.


-Coram Deo 9-17-04

More Than Pure Gold

It was once asked of me,

And this is my answer told,

What has value intrinsically.

What is worth more than gold?


Does it take bold shape and hearth,

Or will it fit into a special mold?

Can we measure its true worth,

Or will that value be untold?


Following is my answer straight.

Very deep in our nature it lies,

Upon our bodies it does dictate

And we can’t escape what it buys.


It begins for us at our birth,

Different than all that would be;

For it has the greater worth.

But then leaves us too quickly.


Time I hope is what you see,

It is everything’s hidden cost,

And can only be seen circumspectly,

Yet it for us holds the greatest lost.


The opposite is true of course,

That it can also be our greatest gain,

And bring happiness in fervent force,

If we know and remember its name.


Time can be our greatest ally,

Our greatest friend indeed,

For it can mend a hurt eye,

And discourage an enemy.


It can tell of greater days,

Or remind of ones long past.

It teaches us better ways,

And demonstrates what lasts.


It can both strengthen the weak,

And yet soften the strong.
It uplifts the mellow and meek,

While it teaches us all a song.


In it we both wait and live,

For our new time to come,

And wait for what already is

While there is much to be done.
Its brief stay is short indeed,

So let us all enjoy our time,

For soon it will take its final leave,

And give us a new hill to climb.

Coram Deo 12-23-04


Funny it seems to me,

That all people believe,

Hold to ideas that are so wrong,

Thought truthfully strong.

Sitting behind their invisible walls,

They think everyone else so false.

Without mirrors to see,

Without the desire to believe,

They live in deceit,

And will never retreat.

Never will they run,

All they do is shun,

Flee to fabricated reality,

And curse what must be.

Can’t they see, don’t they know,

Will they let anyone show,

Explain what really exists,

What life really depicts.

All live behind walls, screens,

Bulwarks that can only be seen,

Be revealed through mirrors,

Or seen by peers.

Living Perfume

It consumes the nose in its unrelenting furry,

And controls the mind it’s trying to burry.

Lines of reason are lost to it’s bottomless take,

While the way is slurred in its vigorous wake.


It wafts so freely from the most fairest of men.

So potent is its perfume it even taints the land.

Hardly can it be noticed by the clearest of minds.

While slowly it controls and usurps power from Hinds.

Invisible Touch

He doesn’t know, nor can tell,

But he affects more than he sees.

Their false show, is their hell,

But he doesn’t falter in the breeze.


They don’t care, nor can tell,

But they kill when they breathe.

They suck air, and brashly yell,

But they still spread their disease.


When he smiles, we are strong,

But he doesn’t know his effect.

With the miles, he helps along,

And he earns all their respect.


Nobody will say, but we discern

He is the brother we didn’t earn.

I Hate I

I have become that which I abhor

Everything evil nothing I adore.

I have brought my own demise

To this, my solid placid door,

And there is the terror in my eyes forevermore.


My hope did drown in mid flight,

Due the lack of Godly fright.

Whom do I serve in this life,

Is it I or something more bright?

Like one who holds life with a little more bite.


The meaning of my life is clear,

When I hold it most dear.

Perhaps a fool am I

But will this fool ever disappear

Or try and buy my filthy conscience clear?

Here Now Precious

Know this my precious, I am here.

I neither judge you nor see you ill.

You are beautiful like a burning star,

Here I come to you no matter how far.


Before God you stand and who am I;

To judge one who belongs in the sky.

Hear this cry my precious wife,

I love you and cherish your life.


You are pure beauty to me,

And I wish nothing else to see.

Before I met you; you I loved,

And I love you more now, my dove.


Hush now my darling angel I adore,

Hold me close now, you I implore;

Permit me to love away your tears,

Forever serve you all our years.

All Alone

All we want is something to touch,

And when it’s gone we’ve had enough.

Disgust fuels an empty mind,

And leaves a heart wholly untwined.

Too many days left at the last,

Alone thinking of what has gone past.

Bitterness rots a healthy heart,

And beckons life to depart.

The future looks to far to catch,

While the present kills the rest.

Fear composes an ugly tune,

And swallows light well past noon.

Filth Chosen

What turns a wretched life from its deathly feast?
Who saves a man from the inward beast?
Where can he run to escape eternal shun?
What rock can bear the weight when it is all done?

Why didn’t the man see his deathly plight?
Where did the rest run off to in the night?
When did the man learn true fear?
Who made the foggy lens become clear?

Where did the strength come from to release?
When did he perceive the wrath to be unleashed?
Who made him cower in humble fear?
Who broke and taught scorn for all held dear?

Who breathes in men life to be set free?
Who grants men places in eternity?
Who picks men up off death’s cold shelf?
Who raises many men after himself?

Who knows all, and to all offers himself?
Where can men run and hide from the Son?

by Ryan Wormald

The World And I

(Part 1)

I once was young,
From within innocence sprung.
But now I am old,
And my heart has grown cold.

Scales have formed,
My Skin has ceased to be warm.
I waste all feeling here;
My face, lost in a mirror.

Death is all around me.
Its time for he,
And I to dance now.
Forever dance forever bow.

But to whom is the question asked.
If we all would tear off our masks,
We would see that underneath,
We are the same beneath.

In the deep there is a voice,
A soft and timid voice,
Like a child lost and scared,
It pretends to have life to share.

Don’t look don’t heed
For there is death in the deed.
A liar is he
And on our flesh he will feed.

Oh all is lost, see we now
As we fall and ask how
Could it be that I would kill me.
That I would die for a lie.

Ah, that is the question man,
How is it we think we are so grand
When we can’t even see.
In darkness we breed.

We fester more hate.
Death we create.
We try to apply our will,
But then we get stuck with the bill.

Our lives are short and quick
Like a candle burning up its wick.
A doomed species are we
As our disease feeds.

This attention to ourselves has become,
Like a child sucking on his thumb
For a time too long
Thumb and food don’t get along.

So the child dies
None to wise
To see that it was he
Who would not be.

There is an end
With no age limit to pretend
Beneath it we are safe
Only death is promised us to taste.

(Part 2)

But wait not truthful am I
There is a way by
This death we have made.
It will not reign today.

Shattered was He
The One who would bleed
On His flesh the child meant to feed
But that would never be.

For this broken One
Was greater than the little son
Of darkness bred
And ill, sin fed.

A mighty King is He
Redeemed we when upon His tree.
Beneath its roots he slept
But at third dawns light He lept.

Scales have fallen off.
I have lost deaths cold cough.
Belief has been given me
And for no fee indeed.

It was we who put up His tree
It was He who paid our fee.
Life is new and young.
From within new wells have sprung.

The dance has been done
The Savior has won.
Our life we cannot claim
We gave it up when death reigned

The child’s head is crushed
We no longer have to rush
Here and there trying to find
Where we left our minds.

Renewed intellects
Empowered without the use of checks.
New creatures are we
Destined forever to be.

To be by His side
To never again die.
Never to lie
Or in darkness abide.

Children of the Light,
Remember our plight
We must never forget
That we have been picked.

Commissioned to life and works
Death has done his worst.
Don’t lose sight of our fight
For we might die tonight.

The victory flag already waves
We have no permanent graves.
Precious child now don’t be afraid
Father has conquered Satan today.

by Ryan Wormald

The Will

Man’s will is only free within his realm,
To chose only that within his gaze.
Foolishly his will thinks his is the helm,
And blindly stumbles on for days.

He will boldly say, in his foolish pride,
That which only sovereigns can know,
“I will tell them all when I will die,
I will decide when it’s my time to go.”

But his air will be for not.
For he cannot see nor does dream
Of the place his fathers forgot.
Beyond his sight lays, a holy theme.

The sacred, man cannot conceive,
For out of his picture it lives
Nor in it will he believe,
Until within him it lives.

by Ryan Wormald

The Lonely Path

There is a path understood by none
But he that walks its way.
A path only traveled by some
Barely visible in the day.
This path isn’t wide nor groomed
Nor is easy to walk upon
The trees are mean in their bloom
And sing a sad sorry song.
Men who tread a path this hard
Are often mocked by the throng
But there is a time not too far
When these men will be gone.
Then this lonely path will disappear
Will grow its foliage down
For no man will be walking there
For no man will be found.


-Coram Deo

Purest Love a Sonnet

We stand to fall and live within defeat,
Our life is cursed and now can only hope
Our cries do not forget whom they’re to meet.
Oh, that my cries would bring a saving rope

To we, and from my misery save me.
We flounder alone in water so deep it drowns
Our souls, our life, and all we were to be,
But what is this my eyes doth see, a crown

That shines with life for me, a face that bleeds,
With pain it screams, a love of pure display.
Who is this King who plants purest of seeds?
I now am sure it t’was for Him we prayed.

The King who left behind an empty tomb,
The King who saved us out of certain doom.

by Ryan Wormald


My heart is soaked in petrol
And I am in fear of many things
For all that surrounds me
Seems to burst into flames.

There is a fire in her bosom
There is a fire in her eyes
If I get too near to her
I might catch a fire.

Look at all that money there
At those little feet a dancing
There is much danger there
And an evil uprising.

Oh those little flames are hard to see
And if I get too close, that it will be;
My end will too quickly come
And in fire my sin will consume me.

Be careful child of the fire
For around us it lies
Seeking petrol to burn
And flesh to turn to lye.

Our hearts at any second
May burst into flames
Not sparks to be put out
But unholy consuming flames.

My precious friend I implore
This you must do and find
If you wish to live next door
To this petrol world of crime.

There is a red water
From a side it once flowed
And there must your heart live
Underneath that holy flow.

For in this red water
Lies many attributes
In it fire may spread no farther
And in it the heart becomes new.
The fire that burns all around
In eyes and hands and pretty things.
In this water does drown
And cease their dreadful burnings.

When a heart in petrol lay
Meets with water so pure.
There night becomes day
And flames loose their lure,

And there a heart won’t
As easily like to burn
And there it becomes anew
As water’s attributes it learns.

Then in the end we find
A heart a fresh anew
Now very hard to turn to lye
As dead things become new.

by Ryan Wormald

Only A Picture

I hold in my hand pictures
Of a time long since past by.
And the only real thing I see,
Is these images speaking to me.

A tear falls from salty eyes,
As my mind starts to realize,
That those times are pictures now,
And I will never relive those images.

I see you and me back then,
And I forgot what it was like to feel,
Those feelings I felt back then,
For you and me and that time.

I don’t think I could say,
Nor my mind proclaim,
The dreams I once held,
And the words I once gave.

And the saddest thing,
The tragedy above them all,
Is the difference time makes,
How strong feelings fall.

I know the feelings I once had,
Are now trapped in those images
And the ones I hold of you now
Don’t fit those pictures at all.

My heart now is numb, and lost,
But the saddest thing really is,
That all I know of you now
Is how you are a picture to me.

by Ryan Wormald

Lost Fools

What do you seek or wish to find?
Is it in a week, or about time?
Do you want more or less,
And would it slant the press?

Tomorrow would leave you blind,
If you only could keep your mind.
The cake in your hand has been lost and is gone,
And your stomach has been empty for far too long.

Honesty will only discover what you seek,
And It will have to last you more than a week.
The hour is short, and will likely be gone,
And you might be left, alone thinking to long.

Life Speaks

Of all the pretty birds and flowers,
That I heard speaking to me,
None were as loud as the showers,
Or that little Pekingese.

Their whispers told of a time,
Held before this date,
When the hills began to climb
And the seas did abate.

Its was long ago in a land not far,
The whisperers began to speak,
They talked of life around a star,
And said something about a week.

Time has now here and gone
To never here return,
And I have tried to push on,
But life holds me firm.

I know one thing I’ve learned it well,
Some people love a lie,
They don’t want us to tell,
Of the souls they do buy.

They act like there’s nothing to say,
About that epoch before
Or what came about on that day;
The whisperers they try to ignore.

But ignore them we cannot,
Not even if we tried.
For they now show us our lot,
From them we cannot hide.

They are found here and there,
In everything that is made.
In the light they are so clear,
How could this be a façade?

Listen once, I’ll tell you now,
You are going to die,
So now you must question how,
Does that fly, fly.

Well with wings of course,
Not of himself made.
But formed with thoughtful force,
Around a foundation laid.

You see it was God who made us all,
And all prove him.
Life’s whispers sing praises at His ball,
And they glorify Him

by Ryan Wormald

Death by Sugar

This is my story
This is my time
How I lived on sugar
And how by sugar I died.

This tale may be sweet
But not without its bite
I loved my sugar
But sugar let me die.

Sugar she seduced me
Captured me with her touch
Laid her hands in me
And took way too much.

I knew I was prejudice
To eat only that substance.
To sugar was my debt
And sugar called its presence.

I despised whole food
Only to beckon sugar’s call
But sugar was empty
So empty I did fall.

Sugar offers her hand,
But its not truly there
She only offers lies,
She doesn’t really care.

You may believe the lie:
She is what you need,
But soon that will die,
As she, on you feeds.

I guess in truth’s stare
It wouldn’t be so bad,
If it wasn’t just me
Who became so sad.

My friend, listen well
She isn’t worth the pain,
She may seem so sweet,
But its bitterness you gain

by Ryan Wormald


A thought I had once or twice
Never followed by good advice
It rips a weary soul apart
And it weakens my dreary heart
It is not good for man to be afraid
To live life alone each and every day

These thoughts that come to me
Come to stay and never leave
Bring tears of pain and sorry sounds
I drink those tears and I drown.
It is not good for man to be alone
It is not good to have an empty home.

by Ryan Wormald