The fault with seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses is that we do not know when to stop.

When the lights at the crossroads flicker red, all we see is light, not colour.

We run, we hide in nostalgia’s walls, playing with the toys we grew out of, talking to the skeletons in our closet.

“Life is so strange,” we say, as though we are no stranger ourselves.

Romanticise, don’t realise
love is like hate
passion like anger, anxiety
and blood, just another fluid

Roses, red all the same

Wine, flows through oesophagus like water flowing like tears of the child’s sighs at night yearning for a relief of the pain of a

strange life

being no stranger ourselves

seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses

not knowing when to stop.

and in that long embrace
did I sense
depths of longing
abundant yearning
cries of desperation
enclosed in that tiny frame
cleaved unto my chest

my heart hears
and aches with her
breaks, and cries with her
longing for
her pains to resolve
for peace to set in at ease
for my warmth to grant
blessed reassurance

but alas
I am no saviour
barely a lover
just a friend
only shall I ever be
there by her side
in earnest prayer
in hope that
breakthrough arrives
and salvation draws near.

we are wanderers in a foreign land, exiles in search of home.
nomads who shift through dirt and sand.

Is this where we belong?
A desert, a wilderness.
A path made through promise of a kingdom paradise,
so close and yet so far away.

40 days and 40 years
are but a lifetime
our lives are but a wilderness
though we fast and pray
trials and temptations come our way

Be not fooled by Devil's sweet whispers
But continue past these 40 days
and though you fail in one way

There is One who fasted and prayed
overcame, and calls to you

"Behold, the Kingdom is near"

Repent.

My eyes have encompassed all the world
Surveying its glory and splendour
Civilisations advance
Society cultivating cultures
Technology, created and innovated
By human beings being knowledgeable
Expanding capacity, capital, territory
In terror, losing identity
Working, moving, breathing
They cry

“Worthy!”
But is this worthy?

My eyes have encompassed all the earth
Surveying her beauty, her majesty
Mountains, hills, and forests of lush green
Beasts and creatures of all shapes and sizes
Oceans, seas, rivers, clear blue sky
They all seem to cry

“Worthy!”
Is there more to this?

My eyes gaze into the heavens
Pondering all their mysteries
Planets, systems, billions of stars
Galaxies upon galaxies lightyears afar

And I hear in the distance
Echoes of angels and heavenly hosts
Thrones, dominions, powers, rulers
Saints and elders around a radiant throne

They all cry
“Worthy!”

I bow my head in awe
And in silence reflected
What the measure of a man is worth
In the grand scheme of things
Where one exists amidst seven billion
Working tirelessly to no end
Amid a vast and glorious creation
Which will all draw to an end

Am I worthy?

And I hear in the distance
The one called Worthy seated on the throne
Calls out to me

“From the dust have I fashioned you
Formed you into My image
From the lowliest estate have I given you
Heavenly heritage
My child
Once an outsider, an enemy
have I bought you with my shed blood.

You are made worthy
For I am Worthy
As with all who are Mine.

So define not your worth on futile things
Or others who lack the clarity to see
You are worthy
As I am Worthy

Worry not your worth
Which is found only
in Me”.

I write my songs
in the echo chambers
of my heart
a deep dark dungeon
of hellfire and unclean secrets
only ever have my eyes seen
my ears heard
and my heart keep
my demons
tremble in awe
of the songs I sing in the night
Like a lamp in the corner of a dark house
I wait for next morning
I wait for a new sun to arise
and resurrect me from this decaying carcass
So that my soul can echo the song of twelve thousand elders and saints singing
Glory, Hallelujah
I've been set free
But until that day comes
I shall echo in the chambers
and echo in the airwaves
and wave my hands in
surrender
Here I am on my knees
Almost giving up
Almost giving in
Almost giving
Always
Giving
Echoes
of a desperate dying heart
hoping and waiting
for such a day to come
Glory
Be
To
God

"I'm sorry"
The echo
that fills the cracks
in the spaces in between
pieces of a broken heart
of damages dealt and received
regrets and areas of lack
of missing the mark and
not measuring up to par
or not being good enough
for the other


"Thank you"
The simple whisper of
a soul found and mended
a stomach well fed
lungs filled with breath to sing
of gifts given and received
of lovingkindness graciously bestowed
of embracing the other


"I love you"
The tender glance of eyes
beholding beauty
the cries of joy
of a revived heart beating pompously
The strength renewed to a fallen warrior
restored to eternal glory
redeems every "sorry"
overflows every "thank you"
and always lavishing
declaring

"Beloved, I live for you."

-thepoeticwit

Shortsighted
we have eyes to see
things in front of us
present tangible reality
worldly ideas and substances
superficial fear, worries, cares
what do we eat, drink, wear?
where do we go, what do we do next
where shall we see ourselves in five to ten years
so we make our schemes and plans
and we grasp for control
In trying to be king, we end up tyrants
enslaved to our own tyranny
Influenced by darkness

Shortsighted
Lord, have mercy
give us eyes to see
beyond ourselves
ever-present eternal realities
divine providence, contentment
In abundance or lack, we have everything we need
And that we are worth more
Than any temporal worry or care
Lord, give us eyes to see
our lives not as mere earthly things
but to build ourselves heavenward upon the steadfast Rock
that we may be humble, as a speck of dust in the grovel
under the sovereign kingship of a good and Holy God
that we may not waver at the tossings and turnings of this world
Lord, give us eyes to see Your light
That we may live with faith, hope, and love - that we may live with vision.