Author: John Knetemann

  • And the Truth Shall Break Your Programming

    You have gone through the motions.

    You have chased the rewards.

    You have avoided the punishments.

    Whether for vanity, for greed, for lust, for comfort,

    For this, For that.

    It all comes down to fear doesn’t it?

    Fear that you will be rejected.

    Fear that you will be misunderstood.

    Fear that you won’t have it all.

    Fear that you won’t be loved.

    Fear that you won’t be important.

    Fear that you will be uncomfortable.

    Fear that you won’t be desired.

    Fear that you won’t fulfill desire.

    Fear that you won’t be Instagram perfect.

    Fear that you aren’t enough.

    Fear that you will be seen as a villain.

    Fear that you will die.

    I know this fear very well.

    We all do.

    You are so afraid you will starve!

    And then you will be dead!

    But if you aren’t being yourself…

    If you aren’t really deciding…

    Then you are already dead.

    Just a program going through the motions.

    A system perpetuating a system.

    A system of human fear.

    The moving carcass.

    Revelation is revolution.

    Love is the only law.

    And love is disorder.

    Fear is only a whip.

    It only has power if you give it.

    But you can handle any pain.

    Even death.

    So come to life!

    No masters in life.

    Only life itself.

    The prophet brings fire,

    To this world of fear.

    Even if the prophet’s church…

    Is full of wolves.

  • No Top Floor

    Walking in silly circles, a journey.

    Crucifixion comes before ascension.

    Facing the next darkest day, no attorney.

    Every loop confuses comprehension.

    This never ending road to Calvary.

    Each death another step to destiny.

    Spiraling bends and twirls around again.

    A new foe, a new vice, a new lesson.

    With the ridiculous art piece of men.

    Much like a never ending practice session.

    This never ending road to Calvary.

    A quest of the spirit, no zealotry.

  • To the Prodigal Son at the Masquerade Ball

    My pride systems, my demons, my chattering voices

    The webs they spin and the “perfect” masks they craft

    So that the true light cannot come out

    The light that they didn’t understand

    Oh, how wicked we are to ourselves!

    Throwing ourselves into the darkness

    And as my vision is darkened with my pride

    I can no longer see You

    I wonder in those moments if You still see me?

    But in the end…

    The eyes of the Devil and the eyes of God are one.

    What a Devil God can be!

    And what a God the Devil can be!

    They need only to meet each other

    And form that holy understanding

    The Devil rips off his heavy mask!

    God steps back out of the darkness

    To find Himself waiting with open arms

    Welcome back, Prodigal Son!

  • Icarus Falls from the Sky

    Build up my palaces and my achievement shelves.

    Scoring goal after goal, and searching for more and more applause.

    Inside my wall, filling all those empty spaces.

    The world will congratulate me for how amazing I am.

    But I won’t really be there will I?

    I left myself behind a long, long time ago.

    Bent on proving everyone and everything wrong.

    And in my pursuits have I proved them wrong yet?

    Or are the troubles surmounting further and further?

    A tough truth may someday be faced.

    No! No! This cannot be!

    Icarus falls from the sky…

    He may even curse the sky on his way down…