CONSCIENCE OF GUILT

[dukealien]

Nice edit, unfortunately I did not include a copy of the original state of the poem, so cannot comment accurately on the changes.  It's possible to update the original post while retaining a copy or copies of previous edits there, hidden inside "pre verse" tags so they're not normally seen.  I'll include a copy of the current edit at the end of this coment  so you can see how that works - it's helpful to critics, though it does involve some extra work on your part.

At the risk of rewriting - considered a serious sin of critics in some quarters, here is what I mean by standard grammar and word order - your fifth stanza, and recast in past tense:

The grey haired old Man bowed his head to my feet I rise and his hands I felt
With looks of sorrow he rise his head in gentle tone these words he said
“From their cross hung his flesh like a piece of meat
without life his soul in thy kingdom we greet
with open arms I comfort him for their saviour, is my son.
I give them life this human race yet they betray their only fate
now again I grieve but not for them but for my son,
who wish to return to a world which is dying,
from their own Human waste”

The grey haired old Man bowed his head; to my feet I rose and felt his hands
With looks of sorrow he raised his head; in gentle tone these words he said
“From their cross hung his flesh like a piece of meat
without life his soul in my kingdom we greeted
with open arms I comforted him for their saviour [no comma] is my son.
I gave them life this human race yet they betrayed their only fate
now again I grieve but not for them but for my son,
who wishes to return to a world which is dying[no comma]
from their own Human waste”

This is only an example, lacks the immediacy of your poetry, and is certainly not the only way to do it.  In particular, it loses the meat/greet rhyme.  And anyway, dreams are inconsistent.  This is just to explain what I mean by consistent grammar and verb tense, and I apologize again for the rewrite.

CONSCIENCE OF GUILT


Last night as I rest in my sleep 
Through a dream I felt sand beneath my feet
In the distance stands a great throne made of ancient oak
Seated is a grey haired old Man
His feature where strong but his face was drawn 
In serious thought of what I know not yet
Slowly I approach kneeling to rest
Beneath a look from eyes that where old but wise
He greets me with a mournful smile
In cloth he is draped of the finest design
In hope I wait to hear his mind speak words I feel
Of troublesome time.


“This land” he says in a growl tone that rise the spirit of my soul
“Was once own by one who cared who loved who cherish it all,
then from his life there born children equal in their race
and this land where he once roam became home for his own human race,
but as their time roll on grown up divided they became
refusing to share spoiled to the core delusion as they greed for more,
for the one who give had long since gone for he could no longer call,
the land where he once roam his home,
As their decades pass and centuries they became
his people mourn in hope that he would some day return
but in their human greed they fail to see
that this is now their home all the land and seas,
Then soon their greed turn to hate for all living things 
even their neighbours even their friends
and the one who give just sits and waits 
as in disgust he watch his own human race,
Destruction and carnage became their daily routine 
and his people versus people how their blood runs free
and as for their children how he grieve for these
for they are been taught by what they hear and see,
and soon, they shall inherit what they will receive”


The grey haired old Man in his throne he sinks as his eyes stares he pause to think
His face I study how powerful he seem and then suddenly again he speaks
“In a world of plenty they had it all yet he still hears their sadden calls
finally he decide they do deserve one more chance to see that he cares,
so answering their call is the one he choose 
with his gift of life their saviour he becomes
but in a world divide he dearly tries to teach their mind the fate of life,
but only those who seek his words they greet as many more where undecide
and for some, their evil reach new high”


The grey haired old Man his face crease in a harsh tone I hear these words he speaks
“They spit they stone they mocked his name
even those who believe just hung their heads in shame 
and for many the proved was in his deeds but still they refuse to believe,
on trial he stands like a common thief convicted even before his judges meets
They tease him whip him call him a king a king of people covered in sin,
Then on his head they place a crown to show their appreciation a crown of thorns,
a cross they carve was their ultimate treat
and many watch as he drag it along the streets, 
finally on their cross they lay him down “crucify” was his judges call,
so they hung him by nails through his hands and feet like an animal and still they mourn.
Their saviour he sent to answer their call 
but in horror he watch waiting for word that would put this human race to a end,
words that this brave Man, refuse to send”


The grey haired old Man bowed his head to my feet I rise and his hands I felt
With looks of sorrow he rise his head in gentle tone these words he said
“From their cross hung his flesh like a piece of meat
without life his soul in thy kingdom we greet
with open arms I comfort him for their saviour, is my son.
I give them life this human race yet they betray their only fate
now again I grieve but not for them but for my son,
who wish to return to a world which is dying,
from their own Human waste”


As I rest in my sleep to a new dawn I wake in a world that I love to begin a new day
Sad thoughts of a dream which happen long ago 
My hopes for a future when our troubles will be no more
But my feeling are for one whose human race betrayed
But that was in the past I hear many say
Yes our lives has improved greatly since then
But I do wish in hope that his son shall remain 
in his Father kingdom where he shall be safe,
Why - Look around - we are still the same HUMAN RACE
Or are we --- Fact or Fiction.

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