Shot Guns.
Lives gone.
Touched.
Trust is gone.
Verbal swords,
love gone.
We are not safe anymore.
Hard to trust.
Hard to feel safe.
Hard to feel quiet, at peace, when minds are feeling unsafe.
Hearts tensed up.
We can't even walk into the place we love without feeling afraid.
Just trust in God in these times.
He would guide and keep you,
all the days of your life...
all the time...

When the armies rise, and I am scared,
you stand by my side, holding me in.

When I couldn't feel you around,
you whisper to my heart that you are with me, close within.

When fear and terror comes my way when death and darkness comes, I will not be afraid. For you are holding me by your side. Holding my heart tightly as they come by.

I've been trying to get out of this.
I've been trying so hard.
It's so hard.
I've been ******* it up.
This weak and distracted heart, get up!
And I need your help.
I need you by my side but why would you do that?
I am distracted and weak, that, that's a fact.
I've been trying, to fix myself back up.
It's not working, maybe you should do the fixing...
Maybe, I am not strong enough.
Ye, that's right.
I need you.
Day and night, you know that...right?

Hopes and dreams.
Shunned before my eyes.
Put out by cold fingers.
Lost in time.
White walls, repeated calls, weeping white walls stared straight back at me.
And loneliness was all I see.
How one took in biscuits and cups of tea for acquaintances.
And tears told bedtime stories to lonely ones.
And if time permits, their families would come and take a look.
Only to meet another tear.

But, maybe hopes and dreams still survived, and tears are not the end of bedtime stories.
To cause urgency and to cause me to love.
And if time permits, maybe one can be set free.
Behind those dull walls lay lives to be changed and eyes to be opened.
Only if time permits.  
Maybe this place isn’t so hopeless after all.

Obey, and you will be happy.
Disobey, and you will be in despair.
Pestilences sticking with you till you die,
Everywhere you go, the wrath of God, upon you.
Blight seared on your land, accompanied with a pinch of mildew.
Just a little of curses here and there,
in a bowl of sadness and despair.
A soup of punishments served to you.
Enjoy.

i trust you,
i really do.
and i know you have been hurt before, i might not have a clue on what they did
but please.
would you take this chance?
i know everyone is untrustworthy, untrustable,
they can be, and that they can throw you away in the dump, and just glance at you before they leave you.
to only come back again, different.
and i know that you might not trust me back.
but, would you trust someone who wants you to trust him so badly,
that he just doesn't understand why you won't trust him.
i know that isn't me.
but would you, just this time,
to trust in God, after all this time?

If the waves could listen and obey your voice.
Why can't I?
If the clouds of the skies would obey you,
Why can't I?
If the skies of the heavens open up for you,
Why can't I?
If the creatures of this world would obey you,
Why can't I?

It's just an excuse to say no to you.
To say that I am not ready.
Not ready to obey.
Yet the creatures of the heavens, the clouds in the sky, the earth down below, and everything in between would obey you without hesitation,

why can't I?

Flower of time, how precious is this jewel of mine.
Blooming at birth,  slowly withering at the same time.
This Flower of Time could die anytime, withering in time.
So please be careful with this moment in time.
I hope you are careful with this flower of time.
I hope you are spending it wisely, not wasting your time.
You only have this portion of time to live this life.
Please be careful with this Flower of Time. It might run out at any time.....

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.

dear me:

dont you dare think its your work!
dont you dare think its you who made it happen!!

students were against him.
him. afraid.

i was uncertain.
my faith was shaking.
but LORD you guided my thoughts: "But God wont tell me to force it. So God wont allow it to fail either.
God is with me.
two options:

do it or dont.
if not force him.
i thought. why would God want me to force him? surely God will make this succeed in JESUS NAME!!!

after prayer.

i was still uncertain.
shaken.
afraid for him to say it didnt work.
it did.

IT DID!!!
IT DID!!!
I NEVER EXPECTED THAT TO HAPPEN!!
NEVER!!!!!!!!!

GOD IS REAL!
ITS ALL HIM NOT ME!
NOT ME!
NO ME!
NOT ME!

it.isnt.me.

you aren't helping yourself you know.
you are feeding that feelings that's been clawing your heart.
you're feeding it.
yet you want to be free from it.
yet it made you tired and you want to give-up.
please don't
i can tell you this, you are stronger than you think you are.
stop dwelling in this darkness, in this pain and suffering,
he is willing to help you, guide you, lead you, love you and never leave you.
Jesus loves you.

Dying under my sins.
Dead already.
My destiny was to suffer and die.

But you had other plans.
You sent, you...sent your only Son, to die for me?
Lord, why would you die for someone like me?
When i already wronged you.
When i hated you.
When i ignored your whispers and pushes and pulls of your eternal never-changing love.

You allowed the rocks to press on me, crush me.
But you allowed your son to be burdened with my stones and needles.
You allowed the nails to pierce through your Son.
and it wasn't even yours to carry.
it wasn't your fault, it wasn't your nails, it wasn't your stones and mountains to carry.

O, Father. You are so amazing and beautiful.
Your love has no end.
Your grace carried me so far.
You want to spend time with little old me.
You still believe me.
Lord, your mercy and grace pull me into a galaxy of stars and into the peaceful depths of the Sea.

O Bearer of my Sins. You have given your life so that i could have mine.  You suffered that day so that i don't have to do so for an eternity.
Your faith in your Father is steadfast, unshakable.
You love me so much.
Lord, you hugged me and held me close when the lightning struck and the raindrops broke windows when thunder knocked down trees and left me bare.
You didn't regret your decision. To die on that cross for me.

O Holy Spirit, you preserve my soul, you remind me of the Father's love. You inspire and set me on fire for God.
You guide and lead me.
You remind me of who I am.

O Holy Spirit, Father, and Son. You are One.

You are clear of mistakes.
Innocent.
You are as helpful as ever.
And that made me mad.
You were just being the best mother ever that I could ever have.
You were just being the best Father I ever would have.
Yet, I just couldn't see eye to eye with you through the virtual bridge.
You were just being the cutest grandmother ever.
Yet I shouted at you.
Glued to the screen.
My insides are screaming me to stop.
And yet I keep going.
Yet I disobeyed you.
And I didn't feel anything...
How could I?
"I've let you down..."
I said to those I have wronged, into the air of my parents colourless bedroom...
Sorry....

saw the wounds marks and I felt cold.
why?
My emotions switched off.
i think i didn't want to believe your skin was so fragile and soft.
how you have been tainted and bruised.
if the birds could feel for their young, why can't i?

Struggling to feel I sometimes force myself to cry.
then, it would be true right?
What is wrong with me?
My heart turned to stone.
and I am reluctant to pray and feed my spirit.

Lord, please take me back.

Lonely ones on the streets.
Less than twice were they treated any more than a rat.
A misconception that's uncalled for.
It's a hopeless life,
they know that.
They are hanging loose on the rope,
dangling above the ground

1 inches.

Let me be frank,
a turnover is a
knife twisted by bare hands.
Before you know it, it's an ocean of
Numbness.
A moon on their faces turned on the wrong side,
the wrong side of the..floor.
or bench, or anything that can be found lying around.
Perhaps they are lying around.

2 seconds

Of life remaining as 10 years swooped by, who knew being lonely
meant being blind.
Blind to one's own sorrow, one's own lack,
soon it's just a stain on a white shirt.
Jaded to the recent events.
a second ago

a smile. It almost surprised him or she or whoever it is.
reminded of humanity and love.
focused on our own problems we forget to love.
God has them.

And yet here we are,
standing under the stars with as many
lonely planets on earth.

And

well, don't sweep your own problems under the carpet but
don't sweep theirs too.
It's their room.

I hope they know what a smile means.
homeless people in my home.
homeless people in slippers made of gold.
homeless people with silver stained tongues.
homeless people on construction sites
homeless people are those who's heart is homeless.

One way home.
A truth kept quiet.
A hope uninvited...
May we walk in the way of God.
Walk with torch lights to show them the way,
hopefully mark their houses in his lane.
remind them or love,
and hold them close.

walking down streets of...
Opening the door to his home.
His heart belongs to someone now,
A Father.

my brothers, sisters, are finally home.

Did the bright lights and broken skies blind you?
Did the shining gold of the fading distract you?
Did the glass and cement jungles  blocked your view?
Did the shuffling of your green trump cards please you?
Did the black mirrors of today keep you as captives in their cages of self-praise and deceitful truths?
Did the burst of anger between one and another, and the absence of peace remind you of this life?
Did another life lost, remind you, that time, is lost?  
Did the Cross on a Church in your neighborhood remind you of the cost?
The cost that HE paid for, just so that he could have you in his arms,
That he can save you from the swallowing sands of this life,
to remind you to strive.
To strive for the reward waiting for you in heaven.
To have your spirit awakened.
To know that this is not it.
That this is not life.
That the golden statues of today and the virtual praises from virtual faces is not it.
That this life is so much more than this.
That finally, you could see,
there is so much more.......than these...

Tighten chest.
Stupid fest.
Hated feast.

Shaking hand.
Can't breathe.
Heart hurting.
Continuous gasping for air.

" I am so stupid. What did I do?"
"What am I doing!?"
"You foolish hag what are you doing?"
I am hardly free from this anxiety.
Free me...

Thread by Thread, sowing light.
O so white, gloriously bright.

Like the Sun, hanging up high, shining brightly.
My Spirit soaring, my faith growing. The Passion burning.

A black canvas can be painted white.
Dark skies can still be streaked with light.

I don't know about you, but I will be wearing light.
The fire within burning bright. The light inside, never to be put out.

The name we were given, even before we were born, before we were weaved into existence.
Cities on a hill, we were made to be found.
Don't hide.
There are the Children of Darkness too,
they hide, waiting to ambush, to destroy, only to destroy themselves without knowing for they are blind. Blind to what they are doing.
that all they do is tell half-truths and lies.
Children of Light, its time we unite, to shine in a burning light within, burning bright.
Its about time the Children of Darkness go, it's about time they fade away, down to their bones, its time we change them, to be one of us.
Children of Light, it's about time we take flight.
And do our task!

I wonder.
What is poetry in person?
Can I touch it?
Can I feel it?
who is poetry?
a person made of experiences, dreams, nightmares, humour, joy, love, and so much more...
I wonder.
I would want to say Hello.
If I meet it some day I want to say hello.
To say thank you for giving me space to express myself like no other way...
Hello Poetry!
That is what I would say...

.........A bag of stones as my heart.
              Water lillies as eyes,
          A glass vase as my body.
     I couldn't think with this thunder
   storm of a mind and I couldn't
speak  when my heart is racing, running out

  of time. Blurred is my vision, heavy, are my thoughts. My heart filled with the heaviness of fear and nightmares. 
 I don't know what to do. I don't want
   to enter into the dark lairs of death
           I am afraid, fearful, hurt
                And lost. I hope you
                     God would help
                         me through
                          this storm...........................

crushing noises.
muffled screams.
tried to explain. you dont want me to repeat.
i cry, tearing myself up.
feels hard to smile.
feels painful to frown.
help me.
drowned.
cold.
i need someone to hold...me.
me?
isnt it i who torn myself up?
torn personality, flowers, they don't look as pretty...
the sun...too bright, what if they see the glass tears i was weeping.
"are you okay?"
"need help?"
please...Le----sta--ve.
help me..don't..... need that...

you don't want to inside my mind.
i beg you.
please.
dont care about me.
i dont want to be a burden to you.
i dont want to worry you.
let me drown.
it happens...for...reasons.
i can do it....ewocmdkwodm"youcan't"owkcmk......
i whisper through the knives you placed in me...
"help me..."

“I have a question.”
“Why is it that the more connected we are, the less connection we have for each other?”
“I...don’t really know.”
“Maybe....because they value phones and social media more than people?”
“I don’t know”
“Or....maybe they place their identity on them too.”
“I Guess.”
“I don’t really know.”
“What If.....the people in this world don’t actually know the ‘friends’ they are sitting beside in during recess or while hanging out.”
“Maybe....i mean, isn’t hanging out supposed to be about spending time with each other, directly, and not i guess, with their phones, or through their phones...is it?”
“I fear about the future.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, what if my children, or other people’s children...”
“Basically the next generation,”
“Ye, the next generation wont actually know what actual friends are, like being trapped in mechanical boxes with those weird things on...what is it called? Oh right, VR headsets. And then they live in those boxes.”
“I don’t know....”
“I just want people to talk to each other, WITHOUT their heads down on the phone and eyes glued to the screen....like the kampong days...”
“Maybe...”

Maybe......

moving.
the plates are moving.
signal's crashing, vision blurring.
chaotic.
storms are brewing, storms are spilling.
spilled.
blood splattered, tears weeped, guns fired.

money's killing, topping the wanted charts.
beware of her kiss as well, she'll steal your heart.
your soul.

money's killing, topping your wish list.
beware of her kiss, she's got you already.

metal clashing, heart's stop pumping, babies crying, airplanes crashing, guns been fired, words been said, scars are made, empty shells claim the result.
if I said it all, time will run out.

rest in peace.
you've seen them ripping through graveyards and movie screens.
rest in peace.

what if I told you that you can rest in peace now?
living.
where chaos are still present but you have an ever-present help.
where problems are still lurking but then you have a rock to stand upon.

A Cornerstone.

where you are not dead anymore but living.
not an empty shell anymore,

walking on dead-filled streets.
warning: a high concentration of dead in the bloodstream.

but a divine exchange changed It all.
a divine exchange between mortal and God.
a divine exchange between life through death and through the love of God.
a divine exchange from us, to Jesus.
God's divine plane.

good news: eternal life is bubbling inside you.
when you receive him, accept him.

why hesitate?
why doubt this divine love?
this love is greater than all others, believe me.

believe Him.

you might have wronged him, hated him, spat at him and mocked him.
but he died knowing all that, he died knowing that that is going to happen to him, and yet.
He died for you and me, rose to life to be glorified as God, as our eternal and glorious King.
A King unlike any other.

Lord, you provide for me.
Lord, you provided and prepared me for the famine.
Lord, you prepared me for the upcoming battle.
Lord, you are preparing me to fight against the next enemy.
Lord, you have prepared, in your house, a place for me.
Help me, that I may finish this race, that I have pleased you.
And have done what I had to do and have won this race.

Amen

Confident, strong.
What could go wrong?

Typed in some numbers, letters, words.
Brought me away into some place far away.

Sitting on the stool.
Heart and mind.
Into the electric pendelum.
Growing cold.

Your voice through a blocked megaphone.
Echoing softly in my mind.
But I soon went away from home.
Built walls made more than stones.

I ignored your call, that should'nt be the case.
I shouldn't be ignoring you warnings.
Building immediate walls when I hear you? That's alarming...

A heart shaped harp.
Sits in the room.
Mirrors displaying each side of the harp, on each side of the heart.
The darkness fell on one side.
The light on the other.
As my heartstrings sowed hands of silk and thorns.
As I play the harp in the quiet room,
The light formed flowers,
The darkness formed thorns.
But all in all.
It made me.
It all adds up to a perfect plan.
To a beautiful flower it blooms.
So the darkness and pain played a part and so did the gloom.

spilled some tea.
i spilled some tea.
tapped my foot on the murky seas.
with long, sword-like trees, avoiding the stomps of my feet.

money.
i need to raise money.
trying to make it up for the spilled tea.
and all the knives i shot.

sticks and stone can break my bones
and words can cut and **** with knives,
but nothing is gonna stop me.

nothing.

When did we started to not dare look into ourselves and say we have a problem and maybe we are part of the fault.
We stopped.
We keep on blaming each other for what they have done, have we ever thought that we might have done something wrong.
Where did the care in our speeches go?
Where did the love in our eyes fade away?
Where did the warmth, the light in us go?
What happened to understanding others, and authentic love?
Let's go with them.
To stop blaming other people for what we have done wrong as well.
To bring them back on track.
On the right path.
In the right way.
In authentic true love, the way that God has loved us.
That's the way.

Blood dripped from the walls of my brain and i am hurt.

Wished that it could disappear as how i wish i didn't exist.

Been through storms and seas but never quite liked the memories that didn't seem to cease.

Broken glass made up my eyes and I couldn't see through the fog that seem to become ice.

But the Sun still shone. Its rays still sat on my school uniform and I didn't want to give up.  

Happier now, i sat in my room.
Listened to a song that said "fight on, fighter."
I wanted to destroy myself with more than a lighter, but the urge made me a stronger fighter.

The memories and thoughts still linger.
But with the scratched and scars, the light in me grew brighter.
and i became a fighter.

What you give, you will receive.
You give hatred to another, hatred would come back.
You give love, love would be given back to you.
It works in such mysterious ways, this system.
You give hatred to God, you still get love back...
I love that...

Paintbrushes ready by your side.
Canvas, put up, ready to be painted,
It's hands placed on it's side.
Hands ready, framing the canvas, putting "everything" in place.
Ocean blue skies stretched across.
Floating tears drifting in the skies.
Paintbrushes trees sat by the side.
Shifting waters busking in the sun's light.
A humble quiet house, would be nice.
With a garden at the side.
Birds in the air, horses down below.
All creatures painted into the canvas.
My family, stood by the house.
Hands on shoulders.
Something was missing....
Where is God?
Is God amiss the trees?
Is God drying up the tears in the sky?
Where is he.
Maybe he is simply, right there, by my side....

so here is what's going on, my heart is cut in half, in between the world and you.
between the pain and the summer hues.
between the "my identity is found in Christ." and "who are you."

I push and pull, I try to ****** my heart back, but yet I want to lay it in your hands, with all its contents.
so now I am struggling with my own heart.
I want to obey and then not.
I want to unwind then there's a knot.
then my blood clots.

then my heart stops pumping, pumping for God knows what.
if it isn't pumping for you O Lord, then what's the point.
then where's the purpose, where's the truth.
I will only be living.
and that's it.
simply moving, simply breathing, simply blinking my time away,
simply letting my life run away.
"run this race."
but I can't even keep up the training, and i know the way but I don't follow it.

am I going to heaven?
I don't know.
I am not assured of what's coming.
where I will be, for all of eternity.

tears like bullets scarred the floors
and the floors were made of gold.
the couch was soaked in tears and i could see my fears.

i didn't know I had claws for fingers and ice for my skin.
and confusion became more familiar to me.
and sin drowned me still.

but when all seemed lost.
and when the noise seems to **** me within,
i....hear...you.

i looked beneath me and saw large,  large shoulders, far and wide.
shining with glorious white.
the oceans below was more treacherous than my rivers.
and the fire burned more than the voices in my head.

Lord, you carried me.
through and through.
on your shoulders....
black and blue

Again and again I go back to it.
To its slimy and suffocating grasp.
It’s clawed grip on my heart.

Why am I not committed?
Maybe a part of me likes this world I am in.  
Maybe a part of me likes how broken the world is.
Maybe a part of me doesn’t want the world to get better.
My spirit and flesh is weak then who can I fight with and against?


Don’t let me go there again....o please.
I want to be led into that promised land.
What if I can’t make it?
What if I am not perfect.
Not the perfect leader...the perfect child of God.
Why am I stressing?
Can’t
      B r
E a the.

Oh the pain of the grip on my heart.
It’s claws digging deep.
It’s claws crushing it.
Can’t
B r E
A t
H.      E....

stop using your freedom as something to cover-up the evil you are doing or have been doing.
its like using a song filled with life to cover-up death.
what. a. waste.
what a pity that such a thing would be used so wrongly.
its so selfish and evil, to make use of this free gift that Jesus suffered persecution, mocking, being looked down upon, being called a demon, and to die to give to you freely, to use it to cover it up for the knives you placed on someone's back, or the bullet you shot, with the body in a sack.
what a shame.

what a shame.

why don't you use that freedom, when the chains are gone, to give God what he deserves. All respect, All honour, All praise, All worship, All you have.  Your life.  And use that freedom to share the Gospel, so that Jesus could free their chains too through you.

its a shame many, many of us, and even me, would do such a thing.
forgive us Lord.
we have forsaken you, and abandoned you...

chook chook chook.
The eager devouring and tearing of scissors.
Snapping away existence.

Hooked on the killer music, encouraging loathing, affectionate for what is affectionless.

you have been passionate for a knife.
a lie a disguise
deceptions

sweetly disguised.

so...sweet
your eyes are lamps, tempted into the night.
away from the

light.

the crumbling of the purpose you were made for.

the snapping of your identity.
so eagerly ignored.

snip snip snip
goes the facts of love.
goes the truth that's

smacked right in

your face.

Bald spots laid bare.
for the evil one to be there, to take you away,

to take you there.

to where

your death is every few forevers.
and where suicide is no longer an option.

why was it an option.
the night skies were your dreamt of destination.

A compromise, a quick route.
comfort is what you want, and you find it in

death?

It's not too late.
the hair is cut off but at least you still have a head.

Its not too late.
For you to say

"Lord Jesus, forgive me my sins this very moment."

This very moment
Jesus has forgiven you.

Please help the hurt, the broken, the shattered the sick.
Please don't leave them, ignore them and crush them to smithereens.
Even a weakly burning wick, I pray please don't quench it. There's still some life left in that weak frame of a body.
Please don't break even the weakest branch, they're fragile, please handle with care.

Even the "fortunate" ones, give something.
Do something.
Don't just sit down all day being sad for the people who are hurting.
Get up and do something.
They will continue to rot, to wither if someone doesn't come and give them a hug, a smile, to know that someone cares for them.
Loves them despite their weaknesses.
Who loves them despite being outcast of society.
i hate that.

"outcast" of society.

lead me into your presence Lord.
use the real me.
i give you this shell LORD!!
Take this hollow, fake, ritualistic shell i have!
use the REAL me!
enough of the lies, the hate, the anger, the stress, the anxiety, the distractions, the rituals, the repetitions!!!

break this shell, and i PRAY IN YOUR NAME, that it would never, NEVER come back!!!!
i am tired of this fake me.
this ritualistic me.

use me.
the real me.
mold me.
the real me.
not the shell.
not the shell that made that space for the voices to fill in like the spaces in Russian dolls.
no, not ever.

with a million rounds,
the train, like a tongue,
rolls out of the mouth

like people,
and onto the ground it crashed.
a massive hug to the
***** concrete heart

and the last carriage
made a pact with the air as it
landed halfway, mid-air,

with strings attached to its
wheels,
halfway-unhinged,
an origami left

with its ancient creases,
and it is desperate to
wage war upon

noises and things and
pans and iron axes,
and bang, and screech, and

****
****
****.

beckoning you into the wheel,
with strings clawed into the
skin, like silver

linings meant for you
but we twist it around our finger
all to hard,

it hugged around too tight
and we are shredded paper,
too many wrinkles and creases

and tear-stains
on your
whatever paper.

we then, twist, oh we twist,
twist others into a slow,
uncertain dance ritual.

and i dont know what to say,
to think to say,
to tie my words to those strings

and throw it out into
the open air, dangling like a
wheel, another
form of a

roulette wheel,
and then what?
let it dance?
see if it falls and hugs

and then breaks,
or then, it breaks

them.

trying to put, chemicals on our faces.
trying to put dead things into the living.
trying to look pretty by being dead.
by being fake...

it's true, isn't it?
the world is starting to love the lies. And hate the truth.
bowing down to idols that didn't exist.
trying to put something meant to be last.
looks are above the beauty within. is it?

this world.
they love the things, the very things destroying them.
being kings and queens of material things, is that who we are now?
of things that won't last but a kingdom of things.
things in the line of being burnt up when the last days come.
and only then would they say:

"what have i done with my lives."

and i could imagine them trying to cover it up with half-truths.
yet until then, people won't repent.
stubborn. they don't know the love within them.






"get your hands of devil." "of my people" "get your hands off my family and friends." "you already lost."

in the town of Jerusalem,
my home,
my warzone,
my heart's stone.

i set off from home,
with weathered sandals
and broken eyes

i sought for treasure,
not gold nor wine,
oil and water
a feast for two

and i
walked past a building.
a wind past trees,
light through holes,

and i felt a
strange sensation
in my heart.

it stood like a castle
stripped of it's
false gold.

i stopped to see,
among your disciple, was
a man with a robe
tied

around his waist
and he had
eyes with

a million oceans in them,
and had a fire within
so bright.

washing their feet.
and i wondered,

was it true, Jesus,
that you only acted humble.
or have you

hoaxed entire kingdoms into
believing your God.

divine encounters
wine skins and
calling the dead out of slumber,

and here,
you've ordered a counterfeit vine for
your branches.

the hope of you being real
was seeping into the earth,
like

depleted souls
desperately looking for its
own grave.

but i took a second,
a third look.
5 blinks and a breath,

isn't that you.

i looked again,
and i saw your arms like trees
reaching towards

empty mouths,
i saw a wine stained
robe, and

whiplashed skin,
i didn't know what it meant.

you invited yourself
stripped yourself of heaven
and lowered yourself to

wash the feet of those
who follow you.

oh, the awe.

oh, the sheer weight of

love that swept into, above and through me.

my ears starts to tear up
despite the drought inside me,
and i was filled up,
even though broken cisterns laid
bare
within me
and the world looked

just a bit brighter.
and life finally
felt like life.
and not

empty pots and
eyes that bled pain
nor is it a heart stabbed by its own
mother.

at that moment.
within this...
second.
glimpse.

bleep in eternity.
i knew you were God

and you are real.

Cold walls, death glares,
Someone's hurt, nobody cares.
No matter how close,  still far apart.
The only greetings are the blank stares and avoidances of people, and the distance between heart to heart.
Heads down, eyes shimmering, shimmering in the blue light of the black screens.
Is love just simply loving the significant other?
So downward this society.
This city.
It's so sad that a kind greeting is an indication of someone weird.
That simply being kind is too hard. Too weird.
A stranger.
So downward this society.
This Babylon of today.
Is going to fall someday.
I hope that we could finally break this cold walls.
That the only way to break them is really as simple as smiling to another,
waving to a stranger.
It really isn't that hard to let love.....is it?

I am afraid to be free of fear of man, but to be trapped with my personal desires preferences.

it sometimes feels better to stay sad.
to stay in pain, pinned to the world, to have lost all you had.
to stay in the pit because it is hard.
because hurt and pain shattered and twisted your heart.
it feels warmer.
because it made you love the cold.
your joy grows old.

but.
being happy is better.
when the cold is gone.
and fear and hurt and pain lose its horns.
it's horns of exultation.
when divine love doesn't seem so far.
it never did, and never has been.
its when your heart becomes whole and the holes close up, and plans of the wicked on folds up.
when numbers no longer matter.

Jesus loves you.

Shattered glass.
On the floor.
Tear drenched tissues on the floor, like flowers on a hill.
you call me to be still.

I am scared.
I am hurt.
I have been hurting, other people.
I have been ignoring their cries.

I have been putting myself on the pedestal.
I have been putting myself on the judge's table.

Those shattered glasses on the floor shone.
The tear-drenched tissues decorated my life, dripping down, shimmering in the light of the broken glass.

Love came and painted the light.

It's simple really, a swipe, a bite, a tap, and a knife might pierce through your back.  

It's simple too, to get a date, a swipe to the left a swipe to the right, nah, we are the gods of this world.

Acting like the master of a master, the creator of the creator, acting like we yield the powers of the sea, or the power and mystery of gravity...

They escape from reality, they put their head down to sleep because their kids were noisy... using those games to replace what was a role of a father or a mother.

Her back was arched too, her chin pressed against the folds of her skin as she sat there, so focused, so engrossed and enjoying the ...... captivity in which she didn't want to look up, no no no, she preferred to look into virtual screens and when she wanted to scream in pain she went to her phone to check that she isn't alone..
That if people didn't like her photos she was an outcast.

People keep talking about MK ultra, but what if it's already controlling us. How those heaps of wires and chips and circuits so easily lures us in it's wake...

Parents, they use those sirens of the technology world to shut up their children. Soon, they would have missed the voices of the once innocent and unbroken child. They would miss the times they talk as a family, only realising those times were filled with "can I use the phone."

Arched backs and arched necks. This is society now.