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AWURAA 1d
Someone pass me a lid so I can shove these feeling of anger in.
I need to keep my mouth shut,
going to the lord in prayer, I don't want to speak words of death.
Proverbs 13:13
AWURAA 1d
I keep refining each word and sentence because the thought comes to my mind that what I write is not a reflection of the one I serve, I want to express more of my feelings but that knowing would speak to me telling me to hold back.

Hiding each poem that I write, allowing my thoughts and emotions to rot in the dark at the back of a shelf.
I forget that the readers behind my poems will never see my face.
And even if they did, they would never know it was me.

All I can say is that my God does not want me to deny my feelings, pretending that they were never there. He wants me to accept these feelings and work on finding their root.
He does not want me to wallow in my emotions, recalling and replaying every hurt and wronging others have done against me.
Sometimes replaying the wrongs I have done against others hurts even more.

It is the understanding that I out of the two of us knew the right thing to do, but yet I still decided to hurt you.
I forget that the words I wrote in my youth will be the words that embrace me in my future.

My attraction to problems is what I believe fuels my writing, whether  it be pain or lust or sadness.
I feel like my poems are all fuelled by negative emotions.

I read what I write and I enjoy it.
I seem to enjoy the pain laced in my words.
The intense truth that I dare not speak to the faces of others.

Then I think to myself, are these people the ones I really love if I can't be confident enough to bring them my thoughts and emotions?

Nevertheless, I write.
You will see my work plastered over your screens.

When I am older you will see my face on your billboards plastered high.
You will not know it is me, but it will be me.

Behind the scenes in prayer, on the stages in prayer.
Behind the scenes writing my poetry, talking to someone about these poems.

You'll never meet me face to face and know who I am, but still.
God bless you.
May the Lord bless you and keep you, may he shine his face upon you and give you peace.
AWURAA Nov 11
They come to me, streaming in drop by drop,
so I collect them all, trying to keep them whole,
comforting them with words I wish to hear,

Lacing my words with encouragement,
so others may see the best in me,
but what they see is a character of fictioniality,
a mask woven from gentle phrases,
stitched with threads of borrowed grace.

Yet beneath, a voice still echoes, softly,
of the solace I chase.

The breath of the almighty whispers, telling me to hold on,
giving me more to believe in.

I offer words like fragile offerings,
each a delicate vessel, wondering,
do they bear my truth or simply reflect my hopes?

In this intricate dance,
I stitch together fragments of dreams and fears,
crafting a tapestry that reveals and conceals
a symphony of whispered encouragement,
yet beneath it all, a quiet yearning lingers,
seeking the voice that truly understands.

The breath of the divine fills the spaces in between,
urging me onward, promising that even in silence,
I am profoundly heard.
Written by Asher & AWURAA.
I would like to say a big thank you to @Asher who gave me the first opportunity to work with a talented poet.
Inspired by the words of William Wordsworth.
  Nov 7 AWURAA
Dom
i am a filthy crusted towel
who was doomed to forever
in a laundry bin.
but when i came to Him
He made me clean.
i still collect stains
but His love will always make
me clean again.
God loves you. May you turn to Him and may He bless you all!
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