I want Christ. Living my own way is not enough. I want to be face down, drowning in God. I don’t want control. I am serious. I have had enough of fear. I have had enough of darkness. I want to be wrecked by the love of God every day. I want the secret place … More ENOUGH
What is life? An existence of earth? It snaps in the collide of fates. One man’s sin is another man’s death. The earth’s two bright lights, Then one above or not. Goodbye. I am sorry for your loss. What if chosen? One moment and a destiny is halted. A warp of the mind. An expanse … More life. night. after.
Look, See the moon there? Isn’t it beautiful? See the clouds wash over its glow? Is it not dazzling even when draped with clouds? Ah, it cannot be seen anymore. Do you know it is still there? ‘’Yes.’’ Yes, It is still there. Look, see the silhouette trees dance to the wind? An elegant movement … More Look. There.
Brothers with blonde hair are easy to spot in a crowd. That is, in any crowd. But what if he is in a crowd of blondes you ask? Well, there are not many that are the same blonde as him. For you see my brother’s skin is as dark as chocolate. His hair sprouts from … More Blonde Hair Brother
It shakes in my bones, It wraps around my skin, It flushes my cheeks, It raises my heartbeat, It steals my life. _______________________ Heartbeat, why do you beat so? Why are you saddened within me? Tears, will you not come to me? Why do you not relieve my soul? _______________________ Anxiety knocks on the door … More It
A cry steps out my chest and calls into the ocean abyss. The waves batter my limbs against my body and leave me powerless. A current grabs my legs and fights to pull me into its waters. The air in me replaced by liquid and I am breathless. My salty tears drown my lungs and … More depression again…
Weep a lonely song little boy.
Weep long and quietly. … More a poem ‘Weep, little boy’
I am not longer in the same world I was before. Things are calmer now. I am myself. In a way, this self is more boring. I do not find her as interesting. But, she is not as painful and is easier to live with – so I prefer her. She may not be as … More when I was happy last year
To feel the urge to write but to have nothing to write about. Or, more so to not have the will to write about things one wants to write about, rather, than them not being there to write about. So, instead to relieve the incessant flow of mental diarrhoea I shall write about nothing. … More Writer’s Block
Where is my home? The world tells me the places and feelings that are my home. They tell me my home is the house in the land I grew up in and there I should stay. Do they know that house is now a pile of broken walls and shattered windows that bury my … More Refugee Man