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Excerpt from chapter 1
Excerpt from chapter 1
Excerpt from chapter 1
The show ended abruptly, but it was the beginning of a crusade
of sorts for Benjamin and his new team of Legion followers. As for
Mr. Franks, he was shamed from the experience and left in anger
and disbelief that an event such as the television show could occur.
Mr. Franks was not heard from again after that night, and his absence
from any spo
The show ended abruptly, but it was the beginning of a crusade
of sorts for Benjamin and his new team of Legion followers. As for
Mr. Franks, he was shamed from the experience and left in anger
and disbelief that an event such as the television show could occur.
Mr. Franks was not heard from again after that night, and his absence
from any spotlight further encouraged the trio.
The amount of time that would pass as John watched the earth
seemed like minutes to him; however, time in the spiritual world
means nothing, as years could be seconds, and decades are like
minutes. There is a vast difference in the understanding of reality,
as occurrences can be viewed as fact, whereas the actual occurrence
could be more of a vision than a reality. This means that a vision is
what will happen if God does not intervene or a promise made by
God is not fully understood by man or taken as a fairy tale.
Excerpt from chapter 7
Excerpt from chapter 1
Excerpt from chapter 1
The beast tore at the Legion; the general attempted to stab the
beast, but the beast removed the flesh from the general’s face, blinding
him with his own blood. The general collapsed to the ground
in pain, with sand and dust sticking to the now blood-soaked frown.
The beast devoured the Legion, slicing him with his fangs; once the
Legion was s
The beast tore at the Legion; the general attempted to stab the
beast, but the beast removed the flesh from the general’s face, blinding
him with his own blood. The general collapsed to the ground
in pain, with sand and dust sticking to the now blood-soaked frown.
The beast devoured the Legion, slicing him with his fangs; once the
Legion was secure in the beast’s belly, the beast fell to the ground
and from one side began to vomit.
Out of the beast’s mouth came a tar-soaked black lump of matter,
almost resembling a man-size round tumor. The smell was thick
with odors of burnt oil and rotted flesh. Even in the hot desert, the
steam rose from what was the Legion. The beast licked at it and
then ran back toward Longinus. The Egyptian soldiers were scattering
in every direction as an element of God’s army closed in. The
soldiers were confused and lacked any communication now that
their general had been deposed.
Excerpt from chapter 9
Excerpt from chapter 1
Excerpt from chapter 9
John sees the devastation upon the earth, the blood-soaked faces
of men, their souls sold for evil, and their eyes crying tears of salt
and pain. From the mess of the wreckage is Trinity. He does not
fear God and is angered over his father’s judgment. One hundred
thousand Legions stand behind Trinity, all of them complaining
at God himself. Lo
John sees the devastation upon the earth, the blood-soaked faces
of men, their souls sold for evil, and their eyes crying tears of salt
and pain. From the mess of the wreckage is Trinity. He does not
fear God and is angered over his father’s judgment. One hundred
thousand Legions stand behind Trinity, all of them complaining
at God himself. Longinus stood with the horsemen and the beasts,
they had battled their way to the gates of Jericho; many Legions were
destroyed in their path, but on the steps of the gates into Jericho,
Trinity showed Longinus something that gouged at his soul. Trinity
stood before all the Legions and held the hand of Longinus’s sevenyear-
old son.
Trinity growled out an order to Longinus to present himself and
the sword he carried before Trinity, or he would take the soul of the
boy with him into the abyss of darkness. War stopped Longinus as
he attempted to depart his position for Trinity.
Previously published The Chair
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For people that matured in the early to mid 90’s, you may recollect how life through the period, variation was taking place in Europe and the internet was preliminary and beginning to cultivate. During that period, I wrote about occurrences and people that impacted the world. This book is a collection of those works, some are personal and
For people that matured in the early to mid 90’s, you may recollect how life through the period, variation was taking place in Europe and the internet was preliminary and beginning to cultivate. During that period, I wrote about occurrences and people that impacted the world. This book is a collection of those works, some are personal and some are not. No matter the motivation, I am arranging my personal thoughts for everyone to examine.
The book became this edition, updated in early March of 2020 as to complement my first novel published in early July of 2020. The new edition provides insight regarding the reason and logic behind each of the works.
The project spanned nearly 20 years and encapsulates many of the emotions that we as human beings deal with and the consequences of life and the struggles in our lives daily. Sometimes obscure and other times light tempered, however the emotion of this work is and was real.
This work originally created between the years of 1991 and 1994 inspired by my youthful views of the world around me. Please let me explain a few of the elements that you may encounter and question through reading “The Chair.” First off, the Chair itself represents the place I write, my stand in front of the world. The 316 represents the number of times I will fail to finish the book as obviously the book had not finalized until 2016 and a full edit professionally did not occur until 2020.
The book may seem dark and disturbing to many who will read it. The reader must understand that during this time, I was far-removed from home; learning and inventing the man I would later in life become. The constant talk of pain and sorrow, or hate reflects what we see in the world every day. Little of the media provides hopeful or inspiration and as a young man in Washington D.C. at the time I was a casualty of the world around me. Many of the works talk of God and religion, as a Christian I found my solace in faith to help me get through the times of hardship.
The book inspired by my faith as well; God has a certain strong place in my heart. Some may see this work as a blasphemy against the Lord but I believe that every person has their own personal relationship with the Lord and I will let him judge me for the work.
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Available on Amazon Kindle Edition
August (1994). ‘When sometimes your Angels take a break from you.’
Bound by life, the years just pass me by. Taken into the wings of an Angel, I did not ask why. Happiness breathes when the wind does not cry. In the wind, you can hear the dust tell a lie. Angels found me here, under paper clothes. In a wrapping of pain, blind leading the w
August (1994). ‘When sometimes your Angels take a break from you.’
Bound by life, the years just pass me by. Taken into the wings of an Angel, I did not ask why. Happiness breathes when the wind does not cry. In the wind, you can hear the dust tell a lie. Angels found me here, under paper clothes. In a wrapping of pain, blind leading the way home. I cannot say sorry for the reasons I did not know. An Angel laughed at me, as I slowly moved on.
Water upon visions of dreams we can share. In these visions my Angels are brightly there. For in a world with no remorse, these Angels do care. Bound by life, the years pass me by so unfair. I woke a day too soon, to find my Angels gone. I scream out to the Heavens, for I have done nothing wrong. Without the Angels who stop the wind, what will I become? Now as the silence speaks, I ask myself, where am I from?
Blind, without a vision, now I cry all alone. Forever in a windfall, I could not find my way home. Listening to the wind call, I hear lies from the dust. Escaping to a season, I feel upon me now. The August.
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Available on Barnes & Nobel Nook or Paperback
Available on Barnes & Nobel Nook or Paperback
Purple Old (1994). ‘I could never understand someone that would hurt or kill a child, the very act seems to be eviler than the devil could compose. Still there are people who do hurt children and it feels like man attempting to divide the Angels again.’
Shocked at the sight of your face, interest hidden. I search for the easy escape, no st
Purple Old (1994). ‘I could never understand someone that would hurt or kill a child, the very act seems to be eviler than the devil could compose. Still there are people who do hurt children and it feels like man attempting to divide the Angels again.’
Shocked at the sight of your face, interest hidden. I search for the easy escape, no steps or path given. Hear the voice of an Angel cry, why do we always cry alone? Feel the touch of an Angel, why do we always live so cold? In depths of silence, begins the last search. For here we murder the mother, listen to a crying earth. When the blood becomes dust, what will she be worth? White shirts surround men of cloth from whose church?
Must we divide the Angels again, what for? When so many answers are screaming across the shore. Children can cry at night in your mares, living so poor. But what of this the hidden not forgotten door? Angels cry over me, cannot shock so easily. Angels listen so peacefully; do you still believe? Angels touch the hand of the children, can you see? Angels live alone here; it takes faith to be free.
Unknown but to God, under the earth she holds. A lost child, who his hands across his body they fold. His blood lay now, under us, dark and so very cold. In emotions of death, he has become the purple old.
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