The war is real

The Oldman often said and he well knew,
the enemyís tactical weaponization of your own partner against you.
Under your own roof to attack they did not eschew.
Just start praising and walking in the Spirit and
the attack launches against you in situ,
avataring your own belle or beau,
as the ones without bodies stir their casting spell brew.
From something insignificant,
these denizens without bodies your own loved ones they flare up malignant.
Threatening to ruin your sup with their belligerent hack.
The flesh screams, hollers,
and goes ballistic to have its own way,
like some demonic pre-nup, a childís tantrum hiccup.
My own way! I want my own way regardless.
My own way! I want my own way although pointless.
My own way! I want my own way senselessly.
The Oldman often wondered who was this mad ass rebellious fleshly person,
going down this hellish word excursion.
No reasoning nor sense could penetrate.
Their weaponized emotions and will demonically hydrated.
Their features dehydrated and their personality twisted
in the presence of the invading foreign legates.
From Earth and second heaven, those without bodies rise like dark leaven.
Their only play is to have their own way.
Upon your partner your hands you must lay,
and command the demons, Come out now this day!!
Afterwards one must not stray from the narrow way.
Give the shadows no sway and daily keep their influence at bay.
Break their frequency and transmissions with targeted pray.
Stay on the narrow way so that to heavenís gate your path may open and,
you must step out first before you see the divine tokens,
to lead you a humble spirit broken,
who heeded the words of the book spoken,
spiritually awake but not carnally woken.

CI-512295213 Knight Truelove Poems



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The war is real