Slowly creeping in

To sit upon the throne of your heart

To be highly exalted above all things else

Gently soothing the nerves of your conscience

Creating holes that seems almost impossible to fill

With my pointed arrow, I pierce hard

Into the fibre of your mind

Leaving no place for forgiveness to reside.

You may begin to wonder,

Wonder why everything that is right is right

Yet you sit on the fence of your defence

Beating your chest in agreement that your heart is at rest,

Little do you know that,

Like a terminal disease

I have taken over your whole system

Owning your own very being.

Here i come not alone,

But with my relatives and whole kindred

From anger, it turns into rage,

Rage if not controlled invites malice,

Malice decides not to be alone

Thus causing hatred to sprout out in conquest of your soul,

Laughing and scoffing at your faith

Treating you like one with no root nor base

Yet you rejoice in your own folly

Folly of self- righteousness

Pampering your actions

Like a babe basking in the euphoria of mothers warmth,

Making them not to count.

Watch out for me because,

Like a bandit in the night will i come upon you

As a snare i lie in wait for you,

To destroy the very reason for your course here on earth

I will label you a murderer

Because that is exactly what you have become.

With me exalted in you life,

Righteousness is far from you,

Because you keep fanning the flames of my existence,

What out for my sting

My inflicted pains knows no end

My misery is extreme

Except you give me no chance to rule

Nor pay me no attention.

End note: James 1:20; For man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. (NIV).

It could not stand on its own,
Accepting advices from friends and foe,
Not refusing deceit,
Allowing the little foxes,
Not hurting the Vine alone,but He that dresses it
It used an axe on itself
how can a branch cut from the Vine that made it? But it did
Mrs Winter came mocking,causing it to be stuck and immobile.
And it got confused.
Trying to be wise.
What a fool it was.
Mr Cankerworm in it was working,
This time not just sapping the branch’s daily bread
But blocking its passage of nutrients to it.
He stung it,Mr Guilt
A spoilt branch cannot stay in the Vine.
Even though the Vine held it so tight
With Mr Guilt’s help
It removes itself out of shame
Being ungrafted by the Vine dresser,
Yet still so was His plan.
It could not save itself
Just like cleaning a stained garment with dirty hands,
It could not redeem itself.
The results came,and Mr Guilty was its name.
With wet pillows it sought the Vine
Like Nicodemus,always at night
And broken was the heart of He who made it.
Taken up to be grafted back in the Vine.
It feels like a stranger seeing new branches stronger than it.
It fears they will estrange it.
But with much food from the Vine,it learns not to compare.
Now boldy it declares,”I was made for a purpose. To help set free those like my former self.
Even though Mr Guilt gave it reasons to be with him.
It now knows where it truly belong.
Though it may be at the crossroads
The Vine will guide it through all things.
For He is the delight of the Vinedresser.

Azubuike Hannah

I see you now, on the other side of the drawn line

Before us lies what makes ourselves apart, what causes us to fight

To tear merely hostile glances, but keeps our eyes from meeting

From interlocking, until there are examinations of our souls, until we commune

From one end of one’s imagination, arms may stretch to catch another’s

But the indoctrination of set-apartedness has smothered desire for peace

All I want is to war with you

All you want is to destroy my realm and make me wrong

All we want is to be perfection, and the other, wrongfulness defined

Besides the standing order though, there’s a lingering wait

Internal contradiction, twined it seems, by my own unease

I am battling to keep down the rising wanting palpitation

I want you to be here, or somewhere with me

Not beaten to death, after our swords have crossed, or missiles have flown

But in the circle of belonging, of friendship that is deeper than brotherhood

We want our lives together, sharing what differing but common gifts we’ve recieved

We want the cremation of fear and suspicion, the annihilation of othersidedness

We want the truce and the treaty to be articles that call us to love

To be in awe of the bond of our common hope in our savior’s promise

If we are in want of stretching out our arms to each other

We cannot catch those who truly are unlike us and are falling off

We could then be just as lost as they

Living pieces in spite of God’s gift of a complete picture beautiful

Our harmony as ones saved and in love

In Him.