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Hell Shocked

I am a Remnant Soldier
Nothing less and nothing more
And I've survived on the front lines of battle
Because it kept me alive to the reality of spiritual war

I have been a ghetto asylum denizen
I've done tours of evangelistic duty through Satan's kingdom and dens
Surrounded by the perverted and criminally insane
In a reprobate world gone mad in its sin

Where the roaches are as big as mice
And the rats are as big as small dogs
Where these creatures come out in the dark of the night
And you can hear them eating and crawling through walls

Where the public toilets and showers are shared
And must be bleached for the fear of what's seen
Like vomit filth, fecal matter and urine,
Blood, used condoms and disease

Where heroin needles are found
And broken crack pipes abound
Where dog eats dog without a heart
and wretchedness is seen all around

Where bi-sexual teenagers are daily exploited
And old prostitutes stand ready and waiting to call
Where the drunken addicted must be stepped over and through
As they gather to party up and down the halls

Where some howl in the night As they scream in such fright
Just when the sound of silence finally descends
Where the sounds of sirens are heard announcing the birth
Of another emergency of crime, violence and sin

Where the oppressed and possessed manifest their unrest
In demonic displays beyond all that is sane
Where Hell makes its stand in this urban jungle out-land
And hopeless despair reigns in agonies pain

Where the Church at large is a hype, like a junky in the night
Turned over to its own filth, sinful pleasure and shame
Where Pastors are on the take and the Evangelist are all fake
And their evangelistic entertainments are all done in vain

It was out in such a concrete jungle harvest field
That I saw precious souls as they fell and died
I was so numb that I could no longer feel
And I should not have to tell anyone a reason why

Yet you can be so over run by the enemy
that it torments and twist’s your mind
Not knowing who is who on the battlefield
You can lose your perspective of perimeters and lines

When the Church at large becomes a contemporary whore
Crossing over to the world in gross compromise
It creates a contradiction in terms of spiritual reality
Thus the difference between the holy and the profane is no longer defined

Then when you're ambushed from all directions
Attacked from without the camp and betrayed from within
In your perplexity of such chaos and overall confusion
It's so easy to leave behind fallen victims of sin

So please tell me who the real enemy was
For such a long time I no longer could see
Because there were times I was so troubled and mentally vexed
That Satan convinced me that the real enemy was me

So I stood my ground as long as I could
Under such damning guilt, reproach and shame
Just a cast away for being such a failure
For all the lost souls for which I carried the blame

Do you know what it's like to still see their faces?
And those eyes of such misery, bondage and pain?
Reflecting their fear and agony of heart
I seriously doubt that I'll ever be the same
© 1999 Raymond Bolton Pena

Let There Be Life

As the sky exhales, and sends forth its breeze
I can hear it blowing through the trees

Then silence fills the void which it leaves behind
Until rain drops cascade through space and time

So gently they fall as so softly they land
Thus the silence is broken over and over again

The night it seems to give forth a sigh
As an Ocean of blue fills the sky

I can feel its chill upon my skin
As eternity beckons with a cry and glimpse

From within beyond I see and feel
Yet to grasp the mystery I must be still

For there is a River of life that flows
So calm its streams bring peace below

That the wars that rage in mind and heart
Might cease their torment as the battles part

For just like the silent void the cool winds leave
My heart and soul they sometimes bleed

As flash backs and painful memories
Torment and Vex, Oppress and Cleave

Thus wars and battles I've left behind
Still sometimes haunt my heart and mind

It was in the harvest field at the gates of hell
I took my stand and there I fell

Nullified in spirit Hell Shocked I cried
I lost my will to live then convulsed and died

Vexed past feeling inundated I gasped
For the life I then lost yet now again I grasp

The wars they cease and I live again
Yet I left behind fallen soldiers in sin

Some have since died they were my friends
Some are still held captive and I just can't pretend

For beyond this world's false reality
I still hear the clarion call upon the breeze

The breath of God quickens as it blows
Again I feel the wisp upon my soul

The agony I wish not again to face
Yet this Cross I feel compelled to embrace

To break my silence O God I plead
Restore Thy zeal of Light and Life in me

Cascade down upon my dry parched soul
As The River of Life Holy Spirit flow

Thus let there be zeal and let there be rain
Let there be Life beyond death's bitterest pain
© 2005 Raymond Bolton Pena

Foxhole Reflections

“And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness.
And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding,
that we may know him that is true, and we are in him that is true,
even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.
Little children, keep yourselves from idols. Amen.”
1ST John 5:19-21

Sitting in my foxhole
here behind this hedge
The Hell Shock is now wearing off
Yet the aftermath issue is not dead

Complexities inspire perplexities
of a nullification of mind at best
Inundations of tribulations
cripple emotions in their unrest

Spiritual battles before unknown
when Saints stand so alone
On the frontlines of hell in this battle for life
reality demands to be known

I now see the very real world
and it’s not really the very first time
My mind it reels as I behold
the American dream is a deceitful lie

Hollywood more than could
surely has left its mark
Everyone plays their role
like Actors who play their part

Celebrities have become our politicians and preachers
while politicians and preachers behave like clowns
Thus the State and Church is a charismatic circus
the madness of their confusion goes around and around

The men now look and act like women
thus the women rule over the men
Good is called evil and evil is called good
still yet no one can understand

The Pastors have lost their godly authority
they put no difference between the holy and profane
The Rock Music Rap Stars are now the Evangelist
whoever thought we could come to such a sad shame

The Truth is rejected as outdated and old-fashioned
thus, the masses are on purpose driven deceived
To have their best life now is just one of the latest new teachings
Yet such lies and fables is all that they will believe

It seems I have awakened into a nightmare of madness
from a bad dream that’s over and has long since past
Yet the first inclinations of my liberation are calling
I can feel them cascading at very long last

Beholding this world from within my foxhole
I see things so clearly it’s the sign of the times
The Churches are full of delusions
yet they tell me I’m crazy and that I must fall into line

Beholding this world from within my foxhole
there is a curse of gross darkness which the devil has cast
It is perverting the hearts and minds of the masses
No Thank You, I’m alright so I think I must pass
© 2006 Raymond Bolton Pena


Free all that you can Free

“The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me;
because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek;
he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD,
and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion,
to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
that they might be called trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:1-3

I am just a Remnant Soldier
I am an Evangelist true
Yet I don’t claim to be a great spiritual warrior
I am just one of the chosen and few

Wounded in the battle I had fallen
Discharged as a casualty of spiritual war
Yet I am abiding my time as I recover
Just waiting to be redrafted so I can settle the score

Back on the home front I’ve noticed a difference
There is no respect for a soldier like I
As a matter of fact I am despised and exploited
Just a Basket-case Has-been who should of have died

Thus I must endure the contradictions of sinners
Despising the stigma and shame
For there is no hero’s honor for a grunt such as I
To be Jesus Christ be all glory and fame

A man’s foes shall be they of his own household
And the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel
It’s been a hard lesson in the hate of the world
Yet I think it’s time to graduate from this school

Because at times I have get so battle weary
And I desperately need some R and R
It would be so nice to take a leave for a season
Yet the battle is really never that far

Pastor’s have their months, weeks and days
To be appreciated by praises and gifts
Yet I fear that a grunt appreciation day
Would make me unappreciative of the life I must live

Now taking up my cross begins to take on a new meaning
I can’t get caught up in such a deceitful unrealistic lie
For Minister appreciation days they come and they go
Yet eternal souls they never cease to still die

The weapons of our warfare are not so weak or that carnal
I don’t need such incentives to stay in the fight
Because I’ve suffered for the cause of God’s Kingdom
It’s now too personal to just give up and then die

Casting down such vain imaginations
Pulling down such evil religious strongholds
It sometimes gets lonely out here in my foxhole
Holding this position of conviction alone

For this testimony of life I have stood
And for this Remnant truth I have fell
Yet by God’s grace I have risen again and again
Against the threats of the world and Hell

For there are Spiritual M.I.A.’s and P.O.W.’s still suffering
Out there in the battle alone
Taken captive by satanic forces
Unable to find their way home

Yet I sense that reinforcements are coming
A last day Remnant Infantry shall rise
Marching onward true Christian Soldiers
With their Twoedged Swords held up to the skies

I hear the sound of a great army rising
Come join me in a battle field foxhole
To Evangelize behind the lines of the enemy
Binding the forces of Satan our adversary and foe

We must make advancements for the cause of the Kingdom
Souls must be set at Liberty so that they might be freed
From the power of Satan to the power of God
We must sow the incorruptible Word as a sower sows seed

Glory, Glory Hallelujah
His Truth is still marching on
Holy, Holy, so Holy
Is our KING who reigns from His Throne
© 2006 Raymond Bolton Pena

That I Be

So who am I? Don't you see?
I am a Last Day Remnant Refugee

I am a Remnant Veteran Soldier behind enemy lines
I am a spiritual fox-hole grunt who still survives

I've been a spiritual P.O.W. and a spiritual M.I.A.
Yet I still carry onward by God's help and grace

Hell shock I've suffered Numbed and Nullified
Because of Inertia and Dementia I have nearly died

Emotional landmines have crippled my soul
As spiritual snipers still gossip the lies and slander grow

Incoming explosions of persecution have mentally maimed
Such well planned attacks were sent to drive me insane

Fiery trials like napalm have came and fell
There's no Radical Evangelist here because true spiritual war is hell

I've hidden deep in the bunkers of my heart and mind
In my spiritual foxhole alone I've even prayed to die

Flash backs like ghost have haunted my soul
I've had my share of hopeless despair and turmoil I've known

Such memories of true spiritual war though past survived
Have inspired mass depressions which I've had to fight

Thus memories of past victories are so hard to tell
Because of failures and defeats and the times I've failed

Yet my battle scars no one can see
Because my heart and soul no longer bleed

I am a Last Day Remnant Refugee
I am an Old Path Soldier of the Cross
That I Be
© 2001 Raymond Bolton Pena

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