It Makes No Difference 2

It makes no difference
That we project ourselves
As believers
But we so much
Believe in the blatant Lies
Of Deceivers

Again, they call their preacher
Maniacs
Yes! the maggot mouth
Of Covid 19
May turn the world
To a Morbid Canteen
But the Word of God stands still…
…Still enough to be a
Statue of Liberty to those
That will die living in it

It makes no difference
If you believe not the Word
Because your disbelief
Will not alter the plans of Divinity
Believe it or not
We still have Mortals
Possessed with the Spirit
Of Immortality
Those whose time will not end
Till they see the end of time

It makes no difference
Living in the natural
And beefing the Supernatural
Because Life is not all about
What you’ve seen
It’s all about
What you’ve not seen

In the Labour room
Of this Lockdown
Is a Primigravida in Labour pains
Pushing to give birth to the likes
Of Meshach’s and Shedrach’s
Sons that will pledge their lives for the Word
Sons that will grow like Abraham
To become Fathers of Faith

In a time
Where the Wisdom of the wit fails
And Fear Factor is the Main Actor
It makes no difference
If we(believers) are not different
Because if we die is the Word,
We live is the Word
IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE

King Uwe
© 2020

Lies At Dawn

Without the stars appearing on a special
Night, the Angels singing sweet solemn innocent
Tones, jingles, praises to the mean
World that has seen eons
Of pains, love, gratitude, rejections that overwhelmed
Beauties and ugliness we see as tittle and nominal

I wish to be etched in your heart not as a nominal
Singer, but the beat you call special
The sound that leaves you overwhelmed
Our eyes a spark note of innocent
Thoughts that deified us eons
And mortals who are not mean

Men whose inclinations are mean
Can’t even have us as nominal
gods, but great fellows who are eons
Away from their realms. The one they’d call special
Species of rare grace; innocent
Warriors whose tales gets them overwhelmed

Though life may try to get us overwhelmed
It will never make us mean
Or rid us of the innocent
Company of the earthlight that is not nominal
Or make the moonlight serenade less special
Though it has romanced spirits for eons.

We seem to be overrated eons;
Cowered, callously, carefully overwhelmed
Lovely, little, lowly beings called special
Lower than the angels’ mean
Myrmidons, to the paladin nominal
Praying to be seen as innocent

But words cannot be innocent
We are actually eons
Beings that can never be nominal
Beings grave, gentle griefs overwhelmed
In their search of mean
Means of becoming special

To be as innocent as saint Simeon
The special eon that dwells
In this mean tent.

Simeon Chidi
©2019