As those whom sit in pain sufferings , desperately.
As those whom hurting desperately for freedom.
As those whom lay up all night crying their eyes out.
As those whom are addictively held prisoner within themselves.
As each of these living an hell of each his own sufferings.
They each struggle with their own giants tormenting them.
Each one needs a Savior to rescue them and save their lives.
Some shall finally seek out his salvation and thank him for it.
Others shall continue to try to rescue themselves to no prevail.

~~
*When I saw grandma was spinning yarn at moon
Mother's lullaby was just a fairytale
The measure would not have to weigh the legs
Flew colorful kites in the sky
Had a chat with friends at idle hours
The dreams came but never went with wind
We, all friends were wandering in a fairyland
The words of the poem as the rain came
She loved to hear the poems
When romance flowed with blood
Air, flowers said Spring
When in a lazy Summer afternoon  
She stood at my door
Sitting beside me
Sang a song of future
Lost ourselves
When time moved in the forth dimension  
You and me
Sometimes Sunshine,
Sometimes Rain
Horizon spoke with Rainbows
Then dreams played with my blue Sky
And I was bright as the Evening Star
 ~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Like most poets , my life has been filled with much darkness.
But Christ has been busy filling his Light into my life overflowing.
From darkness into Light through Jesus Christ is my testimony.
Christ is busy transforming his people into a race of Miracle people.
Taking what the demons meant for our destruction here ,
Transforming us into his Super-Solders ready for victory here.'
For his Holy Spirit transform us into super- soldiers in his image.
He is and has been busy creating his Super- Soldiers showing the world.
That he is still alive today doing his Fathers business through us his people.

Reason burns the prime
leaves in their cinders no solace
for one likely answer are a hundred questions
where crumbling bones can’t have the will
to climb anymore the rungs endless.

Finds beneath feet a resting ground
that in glimmer of hope abound
a tunnel light an emerging design
to craft from chaos a face divine.

Utters a prayer that’s never too late
succumbs blissfully to the savior the faith.

wind of summer
too vagabond
drunk
touching the melancholy afternoon
of the last pale season

flowing over the
deep yellow barren field
echoing the last mystic sound
though yet romantic
spring
the purples are deep
divine

butterflies are flying around
a few birds playing
on the ground
suddenly singing
uttering love

yellow
the golden yellow floating
in the eyes  
over hued
saturated

dropping on the ignored
dry
wither leaves
as the rain drops that has made
a blue
day dream

crossing over the mind  
a jingle
leap singing
classic
the very lost spring
scrolling into
soul

even in the lonely dark night
rolling up
the sound
as the rolling stone
of the sounding sea

@Musfiq us shaleheen