The Ghostly Grip of Yesteryear

The ghostly grip of yesteryear—
An haunting, otherworldly yoke,
A bloodline plagued by sin and death,
A subtle paralysing cloak,

The demons woven into time,
Like darksome, baleful tapestries,
With unforgiving, jaded ghosts,
Inducing sordid maladies…

The body wretching in disgust,
Within a world of warfare thrust,
The thunderbolt from heaven sent,
But shattered into useless dust,

The pall of unforgiven crime,
The old agendas of the dark,
The vitriol against the light,
The condemnation painful stark,

The iron grip of hell’s black hand,
The bully boys who win the day,
The nauseating cycle looped—
An uninspiring groundhog day,

With lives consigned to gross decay,
In whirlpool spirals — hellish deep,
With grabbing hands, from unseen lands,
Tenacious tendrils haunting sleep,

Such long, disoriented weeks,
Estranged from Christ, in sinking gloom,
A poison imbibe — wormwood foul,
A bitter drug that men consume,

Old grudges stuck in sore malaise,
The dross of decades wryly spent,
The hope of heaven — in the pit,
A destitute predicament!

The death of innocents in droves!
The war machine in grinding toil,
With children in starvation’s net,
The ghastly stench of blood on soil!

Bright heaven’s here, dark hell is here!
With wrath and grace no longer used,
The dislocated heavens — smashed,
A fallen family, fiercely fused…

The ghostly grip of yesteryear,
The wretching of malicious bile,
The raging din, without, within,
A fate we cannot reconcile…

AD Lovkis, 30/07/25