PRECIPICE
The world walks
in spiritual ruin,
in imposed misery.
In the dreadful times,
in the world of lies,
in the sacrifice, altar of death,
in the theft of souls.
In perversity,
in death,
the Light is missing.
Without Love,
everything goes
to death.
Arranged death,
dreadful times,
far from God,
without the light of love,
on the precipice
of the demon.
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PRECIPICIO
El mundo camina
en la ruina espiritual,
en la miseria impuesta.
En los tiempos pavorosos,
en el mundo de las mentiras,
en el sacrificio, altar de la muerte,
en el robo de las almas.
En la perversidad,
en la muerte,
falta la Luz.
Sin Amor,
todo se va
a la muerte.
Muerte agenciada,
tiempos pavorosos,
alejados de Dios,
sin la luz del amor,
en el precipicio
del demonio.
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Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: May 5th, 2026 02:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
Nicely crafted the interplay of good and evil and the coming of times. Well done Carlos
Thank you very much for commenting.
You are most welcome Carlos
Carlos, I’ve felt that tension before…looking at the world and sensing something slipping, something out of alignment. That pull between ruin and something deeper…you captured that clearly. Strong piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
The last thing my mother told me before she died in 2017 was that she was glad she wouldn’t have to live through what was coming, because terrifying times were approaching — and indeed they did. We are living in the dreadful times of the Apocalypse.
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