Tag: Trial

Proof

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Your mercy still stand even when life shake me like generator wey no get fuel and when storm raise voice like market women, Your peace calm am, even JBL speakers no loud reach this truth.

I don waka inside fire, yet Your grace na the forth man for that furnace. Blessings wey full my hand, na only your fingerprint fit produce am.

My past be wan dey try drag me back like conductor wey no get change, but the cross sharpaly calm am down. 

As your nails write my freedom na so your blood sign am like court truth. For heaven courtroom, Jesus stand gidigba which living proof reach that one Abeg 

Him love no dey reduce; na so every trial dey shrink like cloth wey see hot water. Even when darkness wan argue, Your light flash am like police for check point, proof wey no dey whine.

When fear dey whisper like thief for backyard, Your Word shout “who goes you!” back.

I dey wake every day because Your covenant cover me like aluminium zinc for rainy roof. And my life? The testimony loud gan, na megaphone wey go always shout: God’s love go always be the final proof.

UbdaPoet
©2025

SUFFICIENT GRACE

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“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:9

’Tis a sound that charms the ear,
Gentle, steadfast, clear;
Heaven’s halls resound the strain,
And all the earth draws near.

All-sufficient in our need,
When strength has gone away;
Christ’s own power meets the soul,
And turns the night to day.

Weakness lays the heart bare,
Yet mercy fills the space;
The Lamb sustains the trembling step,
And clothes the soul with grace.

’Twas grace that bore the weary load,
When burdens pressed too hard;
’Twas grace that held the fainting heart,
And raised the fallen guard.

Our hands may falter, feet may fail,
Our vision dimmed with tears;
Yet in our weakness, He is strong,
Dispelling doubts and fears.

Each trial shall find its crown,
Each sorrow meet its end;
The power that lifts the fainting soul
Shall never cease to mend.

O Holy Spirit, teach the heart to rest
In strength beyond our own;
May every day proclaim Thy power,
Thy sufficiency made known.

Tolu The Alchemist
© 2025

A hand with a cross

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These crosses the empty zones
Like a flying drone
A game of the weak with the strong
Not exactly a contest
But an interest, a request of a savior.

A game for the peak and a tale of the wrong
This is about the struggle
That rumbles with man’s eternity
He has been a warrior since the day one
Faces persecution
Stoned by test and trials
Wandered away from the rally of deceit into the valley of shadow of death
Yet a hand bared the cross

In the realm of sleep
Wars, battlefront
Wrestling
Against the devouring clone
With hopelessness and darkness
And at the tip of condemnation
Rises the hand that bares the cross

And when flaws
Had risen and fallen
Like a raging sea
Waging war against itself
Beneath the surface of reality
Grew strength
To move on that narrow lane
For he who bared the cross
Has render all flaws useless
And had broken all chains by His blood

(c) The Alchemist
2019