Rain

It will always come regularly
Anxiety & fear bringing all its disorderly
Sending minds sinking deep like anchors
And hearts into a place of rancour
Economies crashing like MMMs
Shorter mornings, Longer PMs
Success books now providing alternates
As we search for wealth secrets
Yet our Souls are still dry deserts
Aching with pain, looking for comforts
Even when prayers rise up like incense
And our expectations, filled with suspense
Yet the wait is just too long
Our faith might not be that strong
But then incense will becomes clouds
Roaring like lions making sounds so loud
Then It comes
Pouring down its blessings
Wiping off all our facings
The rain draining our Sorrows
Fill souls that have been hallow
Washing away all our pains
Making crazy minds, accurate and sane
Our prayers are never in vain
Because we are sure it will RAIN!

Uba Victor Isoje
© 2018

Advertisements

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

GRACE PETAL

He is a flower of love, I’m a petal of grace.
Race me to the hour, pedal my race.
Resonate my soul to your orbit.
Traded pains… Salvation was the profit.

Drain my sins into the ocean of flames.
’cause names run off the book of life, feels like an erosion of names.
My veins were overflowing with lament.
But you made it all ferment, now my joy clouds the firmament.

My heart feels like a beating lake
’cause no emotion flows.
This vacuum you filled… I will scream till even a dumb fish in the ocean knows.
Soul once felt like a vault of darkness.
My days were spiced with the salt of sadness.

I stepped on thorns and you turn them into rose petals.
You take the drive out of my foe’s pedals.
On raging waters you left your footprint.
Your infinite love is a blueprint.

Kruise
© 2018