Chest Knot

Force yourself to sit.
Force yourself to wait.
Force yourself to trust.
Force yourself to forgive.
Force yourself to laugh.
Force yourself to write.
You can’t help that you fuss yourself—
So force yourself to leave the shelf
and let your path praise the Lord.

Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
I’m looking for a different satisfaction.
Norm told us to steal and keep eating,
The team disbanded to hunt for new stories,
And the show goes on; the sun circuits still.
I need to practice letting God choose—
For present comfort is no guarantee.

Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
Footsteps prince me a path through the din.
Hands that held my back now applaud my stumbling—
Speaking of my stumbling:
I was sipping last ones, hoping that the first won.
And the show goes on; the trump is still blown.
All my medals rust before the changing times,
for You, Lord, were my only true possession.

Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
These scars will follow me into victory.
Rooftop farming—aura wasn’t the only fruit.
I have witnessed enough to shrug from a cloud.
Lord, please take the pen again; write me back to right.
Outside Your Word, there was treachery that paralyzed.
For You alone are truth,
and Yours walk beneath a different sky…

…beneath a different why.

Bring me home, bring me home, Lord—
everywhere I am.

Godzniel
©2025

The Fortress

I stand here, witness to a shelter God shaped
not from stone,
but from the quiet, patient ways He mended me.
A refuge lifted from the ruins of every moment
His mercy refused to let define my story.

For years,
I mistook strength for silence
but even the softest prayer can rise like wind,
and mine learned to swell
because God understood my trembling
before it ever touched my lips.

This place, His making
isn’t just somewhere to hide;
it breathes with the memory
of battles I thought would end me
yet left me standing.

Its doors hold the imprint of fears
my Father pressed into the past.
Its watchposts lean into the sky
because He has guarded both my midnights
and every new morning.

Do not call these walls fragile;
they were shaped by the One
who refuses to let my soul collapse.
Every beam carries His assurance,
every layer His voice
reminding me that surviving
is not disgrace, but grace.

I learned a fortress isn’t meant
to keep the world out,
but to remind the heart inside my heart
that it lives under His covering.

So I turn the lock on doubt
and pull wide the openings
where His Spirit enters,
letting courage breathe its way
through every hidden room of me.

So, If you see me standing higher than before,
it isn’t pride, it is gratitude.
Gratitude to the Most High
who raises me, and keeps on raising me.

For even iron can falter,
but the life held in His hands
learns to rise again and in rising,
His stronghold becomes my freedom.

UbdaPoet
©2025

JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED


They say justice respects no man
Yet he has gotten away with evil
They say the law is blind
Yet I see a criminal walking free

A shadow is cast in the bright sky
The day has turned into night
Twenty four hours reduced I must say
What a mystery it is to behold

The sun has refused to come out
Though another day already begun
The atmosphere, a palpable gloom
So intense for these miserable souls

His victim this time is still in cradle
What has she done, I want to ask
The mother seconds my thoughts
So many others too I must confess

But Like before, I saw him escape again
Leaving in his wake his misery
But when will justice be served?
To this murderer who seeks his next victim?


And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death.
Revelation 20:14



AJEGBOMOGUN OLUFUNKE
© 2022

201020

A boy stared with sightless eyes at the starless sky

The smile across his neck would be pretty if it wasn’t bloodshot…

Like one of the many bristles of the brush, his head held ink, dark and red, ready to paint you a picture.

Of what dead hopes taste like on the tongue of hearts tired from trying

Just this morning his eyes held a song,
His knees said a prayer.

Someone lied to him, said there was salvation in the dead fingers of a nation’s anthem.
Told him to keep faith in the green-white-green textile

He came out with a song, just this morning…

So now the boy gazes.
Undead eyes pregnant with horror.

There are missing pages in his story. Hungers never spoken.

And today, we offer paltry libations of honor, to the heroes whose mangled bodies paint our history.

St.Davnique™️
©2021

Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a goat strutting along the green path
Looking left and right as it goes
Believe In your dreams, do not give up
Raise your bowed head and aloud declare
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like an eagle spreading its wings soaring high
In the deep blue sky above unperturbed
Spread out your wings and aim high for the sky
Pursuing your goals with a little sigh saying
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a lion devours its prey unperturbed
Refusing the distractions so much around
Surmount your oppositions doggedly
Leaving behind no excuses, be reminded-
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a man pursues a beautiful maid unrelenting
Set your mind solely on your goals, be determined
Let your eyes look straight ahead unwavering
Forget your failures, they are passed, rise and say
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Try again, yet again and once again
When failures stare at you in the face
Striking you its numerous vicious blows
Let in your mind like water, these thoughts flow
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Every success comes with a story
Containing failures untold, part of the glory
Visible to the eyes often is the triumph
So when life pursuits bring setbacks so rough and tough
Get up and say yes, I can! I have no fear.

2nd Timothy 1:7 “God has not given us the Spirit of Fear, but that of power, and of love and of a sound mind”

Every success comes with a story
Containing failures untold, part of the glory
Visible to the eyes often is the triumph
So when life pursuits bring setbacks so rough and tough
Get up and say yes, I can! I have no fear.

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
©2021

EVEN IF FOR A SMILE

As I gaze the blue sky with my tired eyes
Swimming in the ocean of my mind
Word draining and words building
My tired soul in complete disarray

Will I rise again like these ocean waves?
Renewed with strength that won’t cave in
But this weary soul needs some hope
My tired mind, helpless as all look lost

Would you like some pie sir, a whisper?
My eyes alight with a new glow at the smile
A petite brown haired girl with green eyes
With the brightest smile I ever saw

Yes please, little smiling one I croaked
I stretched forth my tired hands
My grieving soul a teary-eyed. My wife and
My little girl will not return, alas

Oh what a pain untold to lose your world
But this smiling one renewed my hope
Not to end it on this deep blue sea
But to start all over again even if for a smile

Galatians 6:10 “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
©2021

Life would’ve been a Romance.

Life would’ve been a romance if Adam was home and Eve didn’t try to be woke.
We would’ve walked the length and breath of the earth without being broke.
We would’ve plucked flowers and laid on grassy sheets gazing up at the most beautiful sky.

Life would’ve been a romance if she didn’t want what she already had.
If he was there to remind her what they already are.
He would’ve taken a walk with her deep into the woods; stopping at the zoo and playing a game of ‘catch me if you can’ in the cool. She would’ve taken a drink of water from the purest of rivers and watched the sun set from its bank.
She might’ve been reminded of what they already had.
And we would’ve stayed the same, feeling nothing of shame

Life would’ve been a garden, green with life and red with love.
Children would’ve stayed innocent and grown ups competent.
The wild would’ve not preyed on the tamed.
Evil would’ve not been retained.

Life would’ve been a romance
A walk in the park
A camp around the fire
A picnic at the beach
And a kiss under the stars

Life was meant to be a romance.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2021

What Would’ve Been

Life would’ve been a romance if Adam was home
And Eve didn’t try to be woke.
We would’ve walked the length and breath of the earth
Without being broke.
We would’ve plucked flowers and laid on grassy sheets
Gazing up at the most beautiful sky.
Life would’ve been a romance if she didn’t want what she already had.
If he was there to remind her what they already are.


He would’ve taken a walk with her deep into the woods;
Stopping at the zoo and playing a game of ‘catch me if you can’ in the cool.
She would’ve taken a drink of water from the purest of rivers
And watched the sun set from its bank.
She might’ve been reminded of what they already had.
And we would’ve stayed the same, feeling nothing of shame


Life would’ve been a garden, green with life and red with love.
Children would’ve stayed innocent and grownups competent.
The wild would’ve not preyed on the tamed.
Evil would’ve not been retained.
Life would’ve been a romance
A walk in the park
A camp around the fire
A picnic at the beach
And a kiss under the stars
Life was meant to be a romance.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2020