Urgency

I have a schedule
It isn’t subtle
The purpose is my prison
and in and out of season
I used to be a victim
Of accidents and habits
The devil thought he had me
But Father’s plans are working
Obedience made of loving
The highest of perspectives
The wisest of the wisest
Yeah I have a schedule
Yeah it isn’t subtle
But if thus says the Lord
My schedule sits to watch

Nielquchi
© 2020

You are worth fighting for

For a people yet to find true purpose
For those hurting hoping to be healed
For those hurting, not hoping that they’d be healed
For anyone whose effort doesn’t work out as expected
For that someone who has accepted being unaccepted
For you that has belittled your abilities

For the me that has assumed the front seats are for the bright ones and the back seat has my name on it
The me that suffers from low self esteem
Who say that I’m not worth the life I’m living

Less of myself, less of what I had dreamt
The torment of my nightmares becoming my realities…
My dear,
It was for you that the Messiah got slapped, got mocked
Got those scars
He scars are meant to scare the scarecrows in your path
Your name was part of the names he had in mind for each whip received

You are worth fighting for
An outstanding conqueror
There! I said it!

What scales have blinded the beautiful sight of how God sees you?
What ears? Ephaphtha! Be open!
He him call your name
As a people set out to break these cycles and dominate
You are washed sparkling white with his pure blood

And as Ezekiel Azonwu once said ” Pure blood is not in vein vain”
Have this invade your mind
You are worth the fight!

Azubike Hannah
© 2019

In The Cage

The news of the free fat forest guard
The humble bird it had as its breakfast
The noise of the resenting jungle dwellers
And the anti-poaching authority
Is a bittersweet jingle for a product you dare not buy.

The parrot that dares spread this ungodly news
Ends eventually enslaved by the freedom in the cage
Singing special songs to the ears of the chief ensconced
In his palatial power-filled pulpit of pains
Inflicting.

You dare not tell thy three brothers what happened
Or the mice and their muse would feast
On your glory
Kiss you with lips of Judas
Deny you as though they truly are Peter’s apprentice
Before big brown fowl crows
A warning that night never loved plain soul

Simeon Chidi
© 2019