Some people's writings can be works of art,
great songs or what can fill the hearts with zest.
But here, my writings are what my soul lives,
seeking the place where it can find its rest.

My writings are not just some charming terms
that fit the tastes of those who like what's cute.
Although l do my best to dress them well,
I look for  thoughts that for sure my soul suit.

I pursue what can give my heart great ease
and live a tranquil life through what l feel.
I try to see the way that will lead me
to where l scan the end of good appeal.

I use the beauty that l see around
to get a notion that can match this end.
I like to build a castle for my soul,
which l can versus deep remorse defend.
I see no hope in life, but through true gifts
when people set no limits when they give.
They see their love in gifts that can free them
from fear of death and its most horrid grave.

Place your heart in those gifts and feel their taste
which  is much sweeter than all what you take.
No sense can be as sweet as that you feel
as it will free your heart from what can break.

The boundless gifts make you attached to whom
you love to give and keep him close beside.
True gifts can join the hearts and make them one
as love unites those hearts which gifts can bind.

The Lord has placed survival in this world
on acts of giving between man and wife.
They both give all, their flesh, their minds, and souls,
which keeps their kind and saves them from all grief.
An old man thought his heart was mild.
It would forget bad deeds of yore.
He did not deem it was so mean
and all his wrongs were kept in store.

When power filled his arms and legs,
he paid back an eye for an eye.
It garnered his and rubbed their acts
to make him sigh for that and cry.

He scarcely could forget a wrong
when he recalled another one.
It made his life a vicious ****
whose source was burning from within.

Hot fire scorched the old man's soul
and came from his torturing heart.
I wonder how some people say
**** is a myth mad people start.
He spent his youth consulting books
about the thoughts that were the best.
He worked so ******* thoughts and words
that gave a pledge of a false bequest.

When young, he earned what was enough
but could not store for his old age.
The books he read instructed him
when matching thoughts, wealth would soon  cringe.

His youth was spent on books of verse
that made him know the black from white,
but life taught him that only gold
could bring respect and prove him right.

He looked around and found his books
could not give him the cost of life.
They were like paupers on his desk
that could not save his kids from grief.
Live for the present, my dear man.
Don't think of past days how they ran,
and took with them what they could take
to leave in your heart constant ache.

Don't live the future ere it comes
as its obscure days none fathoms.
It might be good as it is now,
but none its events can avow.

Live for the present, drink its wine
as time's mad chariot won't recline.
Just in a jiffy, you will be
too old to drink your wine with glee.

The present is the time of space
where no time with chariots to race.
Let your heart dance, and dance with it
as constant present brings delight.
***'s children needed help from their great Lord.
You left Your heights and came down as a Child.
The Child reassured all the hearts of men
that He would bring His love the world to reign.
You took man's form and followed his own style
to show that man to You is so worthwhile.

The people yearned  to know what was that Lord
Who can do all and build the sky and world.
You showed them that He is sheerly a born child
Who loved man much, and him He glorified.

How modest You were when You left Your skies
and showed us *** in that young Baby's eyes,
assuring man that his Lord is a fact,
and dwells in all the world and in man's heart.
I beg You, Lord, for rebirth in the hearts
to touch the faith, and kindle our lights.
Joseph Zenieh Nov 29
Go forth, don't fear the dark; it's always there.
If you wait till the morn, no crown you wear.
The crown you see is gold, and all do want.
Don't wait, take it just now. No one will grant.

Though dark, good people's hearts live in the light.
It's not the case with those who love the night.
They want the dark to stay till they can own
The precious aim you love and wear the crown.

The crown is yours; that's what your father's left
for you to take; it's his most precious gift.
Don't let the thieves take it; your father's eyes
are watching his great gifts from his high skies.

Your father will be vexed if you don't get
what he assigned to you in his clear writ.
When morning comes each keeps what he has gained,
and you can't clear your soul of what you've stained.
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