Demons lurking in the light of day, as well as the dead of night.
Demons living in souls, eating them inside out.
Controlling minds of life to spew out death.
Glitching with the my spiritual eyes opened. They glitch and I see the talking, blinking, singing skills of theirs. The words they spoke walked up in the air in smoke.
Their doom be laid bare in front of them.
The coins and notes they use are like marks on their hands and foreheads too.
When the mark comes. They won't hesitate to take the opportunity to go to hell to their father of lies.
They get puffed up with the smokes and piles of soot and ashes that would soon be burned. Piled up high. Their punishments piled up high.
Their names not written in the book of Life.
Thinking that the father of lies didn't lie that they would be happy and content and satisfied if they just bow down to him...just one time.
Lord, you have shown me how dark the world is.
Lead me into your light.
Save us.

In the night of  September the first. At 11pm or so.
The love of a mother came and rested upon me.
Your hands are rough and wrinkled. I felt it with my hands. You held me like that too. When I was little and young and didn't knew how hard it was for you to give birth to me.
You are so precious to me.
I held you tighter, slowly as tears went down my face. My heart filled with thankfulness.
Thank you. Mother.
For loving, caring for me.
For washing the dishes, and cooking me meals.
For paying the bills and bringing me to school.
For ironing my clothes. For scolding me too.
Thank God for you.
You would hold me and kiss me.
Like that night that I was sick.
I was a little kid back then. With a pad to cool my fever down.
You placed your hand on my forehead.
I still remember the sound you made when you rubbed your hand against my forehead.
When the childhood memories and fears came in.
Thank you. Mother.
One with such a beautiful heart. And hands that held me close.

Mouth. Voice. Hesitant. Flesh vs Spirit.
Fear vs Love.
If only I could stop letting the lizard step on the plans God has for me.
If only he could stop conducting the ochestra in my head. To play the music he wants to hear.
Help me see past the nice wrapped empty boxes. What if the cardboard boxes out of view kept bars of silver, marble and gold. Or something even better.
If only I could stop riding on marble waves, and drown in deep. To have been surrounded by your Love. Mercy. Grace.
Maybe I don't know the plans, but you showed me pieces, cassate tapes, videos of what your plan is for me.
Show me more.
Show me pictures of your majesty.
Movies of what is a Godly family.
Help me get past this.
Open up my heart.
Force open it.
I want to give you the keys. You know my secrets, my dreams.
You take care of me in my sleep...
Lord, my family, my friends.
Help me with my insecurities...

Calls a number, switches channels in seconds.
Wished to have pleasures, skin to skin, longed for touch.
Hits and punches. Down the line, it's actions can cross the lines.
I didn't want to do them.
Nothing I do is my own really.
Where it's either my fleshy, hairy minds and crowns, or it's the light and God's presence that guids my hand.
My navigation is haywire, vision obscene and covered with blinds.

I don't want to be in this body.
Nope not because of it's shape not size.
Not because I am chiseled or not.
Not fat nor skinny. No, not because of that.
I just hate the decisions it makes, its ideas it has, the vision it has, makes. Me. Sick.

From a far-off land.
He wasn't popular.
She wasn't liked.
He was weak.
She was always tired.
He was a runt.
She was called a '****'.
They were never in a team, when the kids played football.
They were pushed when they ran.
They were unloved, pushed around.
Left alone in the canteen.
Where they sat in the seats with dust.
Yet. They were called.
From the heavens.
God called. How could someone so broken like them. Be loved?
But people like them learnt to love others.
But people like them are humbled and was willing to learn.
But people like them were broken so that they can be made stronger.
It was nothing about them though.
Nothing about if they would fail or not.
It was.... Nothing about others too.
It was about God.
He called them his children.
And so does me and you. :)

I didn't choose to be in pain.
I didn't choose to see the death of another, or myself.
I didnt choose to be in this time of suffering and agony.
I won't have chosen them.
I would never want to forget them.
How they taught me to forgive.
How they taught me things I otherwise wouldn't have learnt.
How they could set someone free when I am in chains...
How I am locked tight to your Love.
Never to be able to leave.
Never to be able to run away.
Huh.
I could have never been happier.
To be in chains.