Alas, see one is
become unworthy
to question the mysteries of
salvation and sanctification.

When the believer,
the saint
falls into sin,
he is rendered silent
before the throne of ***.

The awkward tension
between friend and foe
is felt.

he asks,
"What does it mean
to be saved?"

And though try as he might,
his jaw is sealed shut;
he dares not make a sound to speak.

Silent as silent accusations
pile upon himself.

In his mind, screaming
"LORD, HAVE MERCY!"
Yet dares not draw near
to pray.
Little was it known that lustful sins arise at the peak of 3am in the morning.
Have you ever wondered
what it's like to lean on
cold shoulders?

Shoulders that are warm
in you own eyes
but look coldly toward you
Shoulders you openly embrace
but sharply reject you.

Shoulders who
would give your own for them to lean on
but would refuse theirs for your comfort

Still, you lean on them.
Still you care.

I can only ever wish for warmth
from a love so frozen.
Words stir the mind;
Songs touch the soul;
Truth pierces the heart.
Another mini-work.
It was my past
That held me back
From achieving eternal destiny

But when I looked back
Into the past
I see a heavenly assignment
accomplished

That on my behalf
A price was paid
So that I may enter
The pearly gates

The streets of gold
The walls of diamond
The choir of heaven's
angels roar

It was that past
when I looked back
that I'm now able
to venture forward.
What is worth a writer's many words
When the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?

When your eyes finally perceive
what your soul feels
and your ears hear
what your spirit receives

When you dwell
be it in high ground
or on low valley
When you look to the sky
or cast your face down to the ground.

You look longingly into eternity
awaiting something all worth more
that this.
Longing for meaning,
purpose,
life,
a reason to live
a reason why you breathe and do the things you do.

Longing for
connection,
relationship;
Longing for
mercy.

It is in the journey of a lifetime
that we realise
the hidden things

When the deep cries out to deeper waters;
When we look longingly
into the mysteries.

Thus it is in those
that our restlessness yields,
and we find peace despite calamity.

When we shall see even the face of ***
who once dwelt with us.

What is worth a writer's many words
when the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?
It is worth more than this,
that meaning be even found in this life
and moves beyond to something much greater
than this.
Dig deeper and look beyond.
Heavenly Father,
*** who hears my plea,
do you hear me still, even now?
I’ve seemed to slip from Your fingers
back into the chains from which I was once bound.
Was I not already free?

Have mercy on me, still.
I am but a mere mortal,
prone to life’s temptations.
My eyes are tainted with ****,
my flesh stained with sin.
My heart has turn cold,
my spirit is faded.

I’ve become less sensitive
to Your presence.
The fire You have put within me
is still there but burning out, slowly.
I had long to go out and do Your will,
but I am so complacent
rather willing that I do things for myself.

I am thus no different than others
I am just the same if not worse than any other sinner
be it ****** or murderer
liar or thief.

Have I forgotten the joy of Your salvation?
If I am Your son, Your servant in Your image and likeness created
therefore create in me a clean heart, and rekindle in me the fire of Your love.
Stir in me a passion, to boldly seek you and to pursue doing Your will in this world today.
Help me deny myself, to carry my cross and follow you.
Remind me that this life is not my own but to care for others and to serve You.

Forgive me and cleanse me through and through.
As it is, all things, for Your glory!
In Christ’s Name
Now and forever.

Amen.
A prayer.
Mask on.
I become this strong man
ready
to wage war.
The night was cold,
its evils, even more so
ravenous
I was ready, ready
to wage war
on vast armies.

Mask off.
I was no more than any mere mortal you could find on the face of this ***-forsaken planet.
Who am I?
Who am I that I play the hero,
to save the world
when I can’t even save myself?

Mask on.
My strength returns.
I wonder
What is my purpose?
Do I not find meaning in this
reckless ravaging in the depths of this
savage abyss?
Having witnessed the depths of mankind’s depravity,
causing furtherance in destruction.
My efforts are not in vain;
I must do something.

Mask off.
It feels hopeless;
It’s no point fighting.
Why do my enemies mock me,
my own family persecute me,
my friends betray me?
How long more must I turn the other cheek,
whilst others fight to the death?
I refrain from taking life out of rage.

I use it instead to fuel my faith.
That Justice would one day reign.

Could it be so that angels can be found in the likes of men like me?
Could it be that superheros are just as human?
Superman is yet still a man,
what more a man like me?

To others, the mask is always on.
They do not see me as the man I am.
Yet, when the mask is put on,
I become the man I ought to be.

Now,
the fight goes on
and everything that is worth
my life.
Dedicated to my cousin. Happy birthday.
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