Pivot Station

God to the Man
Holy the hands
Heavenly broadcast
Bless the expanse
Son
Help souls flee the entrap
Meant for the more than a lap

Chains hit the ground—God’s love was the plan
and
God’s is the order and height
Inbuilt grace seasons the sub
stance
Will of the father
Be Saved or deleted and stolen from time and chance
Seas
Swim to the name and chant
Eat
Break ye the bread and pass
Eat
Drink ye the blood and bathe
Eat
Say to the mountain
Bless me

God to the man
All for the land—ugh!
Freaky escapes
Such high stakes—ugh!
God is too good
And there’s much more to be understood
Creation awaits and eternity is unto the fabric of food
True food made of the Word of God
Now Hiring
Now Hiring
We’re seeking Sons of God
Someone to take

God to the man
God to the land
God to the couch and God to the TV
God to the start of every man’s story
God to the air and God to the busy—easy, if a man hasn’t clung to money
God to the clung and to the ones set-free
God to the life and death of things
God to the man and to the scenes

God to the man
Do you read me?
God to the man
Do you read me?

Godzniel
©2026

A Portrait of Sacrifice, with Blood as Paint

A band of butcherers chant,
As they drag crying sheep through,
Smashed rocks and dirt clouds,
Swarming, to slaughter point,

Its fluffy coat sheds, to mingle,
With mud puddles and grim slime,
It swims in darkened blood,
And sways, to torturers’ feet stomping,

As shredding skin paints the path,
To the altar, with red hue,
A portrait of life takes shape:
Suffering, to death,

But if through its last cries,
It sees losing self could be worship,
It’ll fall, to paint its dying as,
Living worship to God, “Sacrifice Infinite”.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018