Category Archives: Religious

Prison Ethereal

Strong bars glimmer in the light, not of steel or lucite,

Travail crushes the soul, inside and out, but not whole.

Pushing, pulling, pealing, popping, but not prevailing,

What doesn’t dare dispatch you cold, slowly steels your soul.

Hubris, a dark coop self made, self restrained, and self laid.


Brimming top to bottom, while cruel baffles box our bodies,

Trepidation enlightens a cold acceptation.

Struggle, strain, strip, and strike she doesn’t slip in the night,

A cruel mistress, mire and mirrors, master of care,

Haunts us haughtily, while her heart hurts us mightily.


Obduration is a deadly fiend, so dark and mean,

Terror is her tool to throw you in her sinking pool.

Rip and rave, row and writhe, wrest yourself of rancid pride.

Adoption frees a friend from his own fiery end, and

Hope is found when finding follows faith above the ground.

Coram Deo – 5/5/17

Set to Right

To the world who is too small,

To those who don’t care at all.

To the ones full of spit and foam,

To the breakers of happy homes,

Here comes your day to pay

And your time to pine.


To those bruised and broken.

To those who are unknown,

To the ones who live to die,

To those who always cry.

Here comes your song to sing,

And your hope to hold.


To the gentle and to the meek

To the ones who softly speak.

To the stranger with a smile,

To those who walked the mile,

Here comes your life to live,

And your star to see.


Here comes the Son of man

With His nail pierced hands.


-Coram Deo


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.

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?

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

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

Oh the Beauty of the Sky

Oh the beauty of the sky
This world and this time
In it is felt the pulse
A loving rhyme

Once I was blind
Could see no truth
Held a snake
Felt its poison tooth

How sad it is
The pain that is felt
When light hits your eye
And leaves a welt

I felt the ground
And the covering sky
Felt the falling rain
And gasped a sigh

To die I thought
Would be good
I would leave tonight
If I could

The sight I beheld
Wasn’t grand or pretty
Until his hand
Was offered to me

You could almost say
That line in the sand
He far crossed
He walked my land

It was as if I died
Saw visions of stars
And blood and life,
And then those scars

How wonderful the sight
The view I did see
Of blood that flowed
And it covered me.

Oh the love in a touch
The warmth in a breath
The joy in a kiss
The beating of a chest

Beauty in pain
Love in a sigh
It wasn’t felt for me
Tell to me He died

by Ryan Wormald

The World Without a Flower

The world without a flower
Got lost in a name.
And when it found the tower
It only discovered pain.

In a stone laden shower
Men were left not the same.
And when they found the flower
Its petals they did claim.

It is the stone laden tower
That showers men in pain,
In this world without a flower,
Till the flower returns to reign.

By Ryan Wormald