Lover

Your heart like an ember
I know you remember
The moments we shared and the lights that it rendered
The lilies we gathered
For your love was an anchor
It held us together
Even when I repelled and was attracted by doubt and depression

Your love is faith
It conceals the thoughts of my heart from the fatigues of unbelief
Your love is an ancient word, hidden in the bedrocks of my heart
Agape, a fruit Stemming forth from within
Being pruned carefully not considering any retardation to yield
Those lashes you took, for me
With a spear through your hips to spare this unfit
This is deep!
Chills through my body—you didn’t give in
You gave up when there was nothing worth fighting for
It’s finished, I mean I was finished
A recreated piece

Adethatwrites
© 2020

DEAR UNLOVED: A BOOK OF POEMS

Your emotional and mental well being is unlikely to be enhanced by common chance.

Since life’s worries and instabilities has not driven you mad yet, this is not the kind that goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.

Christ-A-Poet brings you the knowledge and understanding you need to address mental dysfunctions, depression, suicidal tendencies, grief and life challenges fully equipped.

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Do not perish because of lack of knowledge when you can easily click and download ‘Dear Unloved’, a book of poems written by talented writers just for your sanity.

We will appreciate your comments and reviews.
Cheers!

– ChyD
For the Team

Life After Death

It is so ridiculous
How we fear death
A riddle, cool course
Why we want to live on earth

Life is to death
As death is to life
Man is to earth
As earth is to man

It’s OK we die
Because it’s a metamorphosis for one to live
At some point, we will say goodbye
To the old hives, we’ve lived

Failure could be death
Challenges could be death
Depression could be death
But the ability to overcome, prompts a new life

Definitely we will die someday
And there awaits us another life
The believers call this eternal
When we shall become immortal
But until we die, can we live such

Adethatwrites
© 2018

STILL I STAND

Does your mind say the opposite of what your faith says?
That the strength in you cannot rise above the fear clutching at your throat, threatening to squeeze out the already faint voice that says ‘I don’t have the spirit of fear, but of love and power and a sound mind.’

The fear cowering your defenses, making you more vulnerable than you already are, telling you, yes, the night is dark and that you’re about to step into the blinding, discomfortable darkness. The fear floating like the night breeze; not chill, not cool, not reassuring but restless, defiant, whispers one ear into the other, ‘you’re alone, look, you’ll trip, there’s definitely a pit and you’ll fall into it.’

The voice gets louder, harsher and you scream out, ‘though I walk through the valley and the shadow of death hovers over me, I’ll fear nothing.’ You will say it till your mind and body and every hair on you skin stand in obedience, taking down iotas of doubt.

Someone once your faith is doing the opposite of what you fear.

Fear comes in when you are at your lowest, tells you you are human and that humans fear but you look at it in the eye and tell it, ‘I’m not human, I’m superhuman because what I have in me is superior to the power that’s in you.’

You tell fear, yes life breaks people, takes them through storms and losses and pains and makes them clutch their hurting hearts wishing life could seep out of them, wishing they could be free. You tell fear, STILL I STAND.

Still I stand through the failed courses, dead CGPA’s, empty bank accounts, biting hunger, depression, hospital beds. I stand through the days I feel like hiding under Vet Mountain and not let the sun see your tears. I stand through the days I feel alone and lost and completely forgotten.

Still I stand, holding on to that hope that says ‘do not fear, because I am with you.’
The one that tells you, ’walk with me, watch me and learn the unforced rhythms of grace.’

You are a miracle God is building into a story the world will go on telling even when you’re up there with him. A story that will hold up people battling with fear.

My friend once told me this and I’m telling you, ’you are many things, but you are not afraid.’

You are strong, powerful, full of faith and light. You are full of God’s strength that does not bow to fear.

IFIOKABASI OKOP

(c) 2018

The Mute Cry

crying-girls-facebook-profile-pictures

I’ve been wronged. Why should I not be bitter?

Treated unfairly, as though I don’t deserve better.

Suffering consequences for choices I never made.

I’m strange not special, odd not unique, tossed apart not set apart.

Bitterness I drink, bitterness I sip.

I sleep with my oddness, wake with my strangeness and live with my bitterness.

I chose not this burden, it chose me and like a jealous wife follows me everywhere, weighing me down-spirit choking, soul gasping, body crumbling, all under this bitter weight.

How dare you demand I be bitter no more?

Roll away this load and with a light heart I’ll smile.

They point at me – jesting me, poking me, mocking me.

Bitterness, bitterness, bitterness all around and around all.

I sat there sinking in the mud hole of my anger, suffocating from my own rage, angry with life, tired of men, hidden from God.

I stood at the door beckoning the grim reaper ‘please pay me a visit’ and with open hands I would welcome him. Better dead than bitter, better entombed than enraged, life is overrated.

A knock! At last the grim reaper was here, I fumbled over myself in excitement to welcome my own death. I opened the door and He walked in instead, brighter than life and bigger than all, too magnificent to be grim, too loving to be reaper. I skidded with all my might heading the opposite direction, lest my darkness spewing heart stain even the edge of his light crusted garments. But His arms longer than the great wall and quicker than Bolt went round me and like the clenched jaws of Sabre tooth, drew me in to himself. I shuddered to look sure I would stain even the stainless and spread my cancer of bitterness on another.

He was gone, I opened my eyes to see that his glow had driven my groans and his light had shone upon my life, driving eternally away my darkness and stains. It was all gone and my heart was beating ‘free’ ‘dom’, ‘free’ ‘dom’, ‘free’ ‘dom’. I sought for my pain only to find His pleasures, I opened the wardrobe of my bitterness only to find garments of praise, my account of shame empty and my store of Joy overflowing.

Where is my knight in shining Armour? My hero who saved me from myself? I looked around to no avail, only to hear His voice from within my very heart crying ‘over here’.

This myriad of happenings all in a split second as I answered the altar call on this Sunday morning, never uttering a word, with folks I never knew but who now felt closer than kin. Kneeling on the altar, live tears streaming from my eyes, once bitter, once angry, now saved, now changed, all because His ears hear even the mute cries of a bitter heart.

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