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Chad Young Feb 9
Science of the world
How you ask for attention.
Who will return here?

Ask instead, "what do I see?"
Right here, right now, basically.
Chad Young Feb 7
If left to nothing, I am ******.
If left to nothing, I am expressive but not intellectual.
If left to nothing, my thoughts make no logical point though.
If left to nothing, my time fills with sleep.
If left to nothing, I work with my hands doing simple things
If left to nothing, I only study what I perceive.
I can only see my Self as a criminal.
The Self hides the thought.
The Self makes a point.
The light shows it's greater than darkness.
My Self tries to copy their brightness.
While I take glory in unkindness.
My Self is joined by God governance.
I'm cast away for hypocrisy.
I'm left to gather intentions, see.
I can never again be the first elect.
I am forced to recollect.
Their fairness makes me their equal.
My spiritual station is with God not the people.
Madness is my true Self.
Victimhood is my true wealth.
Displaced is the eye from my story.
What's left is a body - no glory.
My light itself is lost and perplexed.
These words getting me to the next.
I see someone worse off, I just want to bless.
I see the eyes of the Local Spiritual Assembly.
It's an understanding and not my reality.
I see the moral understanding.
I have almost no share in its standing.
Their light is weaker than darkness
My light is just blindness.
Anger is truth
Perplexity is truth.
Friendship is a lie.
Mercy allows me to know why
Safety comes before playfulness.

Timid eyes.
Isheanopa Zvobgo Apr 2019
From afar you looked like a knight.

But you were a trojan horse.

Tonight I'm burning.
Lisa Neu Sep 2018
The ability to take one step
Was all I could do
     In the dark
     When I felt alone
     A mask over me
     Hiding me and my truth
Taking one step
Choosing a direction

In the dark, cannot see
Trusting, hoping, believing
     In the tiny speck of light
     Barley visible, so small
     Could be it isn't there at all

One step, then another
     Speaking quietly
     Unsure
     Years.

Awakening one day in a new place
     A good place
     Hope
In something new

7 Aug 2018
Isrella Uong Nov 2017
The things I say when I pray for you
are the realest things you’ve never heard me say;
the things I proclaim when I rebuke the things of you
are the most forthright sentences that’ve ever come out of my mouth.
But when I speak to you, I say useless things,
because the realest things are left unsaid, only said in my prayers.

When I proclaim truths on you, when I proclaim truths about you,
I, myself, can’t comprehend what I’m saying;
I just let my mind be guided and directed.
But the words spoken and prayed, they never leave my secrecy.

Then again, I won’t let you in this close,
because you, yourself, are closed in;
you are closed in and your exterior is as rough to the touch as sand paper,
and you won’t open yourself up to the things I pray when I pray for you.
You won’t expose yourself to certain truths that I know,
more than you do, about you; you don’t want to.

You think they’re irrelevant, the revelations I receive,
you don’t want to hear them. But if you do,
you won’t acknowledge them; you don’t want to.
How then can I speak my mind about issues if I’m so afraid that it’ll make you blue?

How pointless it is, to pray for you but to not be able to share words of encouragement
about issues that you don’t want to acknowledge;
to not be able to walk with you through them.
I restrain my words and end up babbling about nonsense
each time you pick up the phone; two to three to four hours wasted
on arguing who has better spiritual discernment.

I don’t want it to be this way, I want to pray
out loud with you, and not be afraid of your judgement.
I want my words of wisdom to flow out naturally,
because, truly, I’m tired of cutting edges in the manners I try to not offend you.

I know you’ve got resentment;
please don’t look at me like this, seek to see my true identity.
I’m a light, I shine bright and cast out the darkness
with the light that lives in me.
I’m a warrior of love and an ambassador of the beacon of hope
that this world has yet to recognize.

And you’re just like me, co-heirs in this heritage;
so why must we go to war against each other like this?
Why must we let our pride get in the way of fruitful discussions?
This is not the right battle, this is not what we’re supposed to do.

Our battle isn’t against flesh and blood,
that is why I still pray for you.
I hope you’ll see me the way he sees me; precious and valuable.
But above all, I pray that one day I’ll be able to say
the realest things and proclaim the most forthright sentences
without being afraid of you.
November 14, 2017. I was sick of spiritually investing and fighting for people, because I felt like they don’t ever take in account my sanctified words.
Simon Monahan Nov 2017
O Counsel! Now I am bound to withdraw,
I must - for there is no prudent rhyme or
Melody that I might compose, save awe
Or list’ning silence, unless to the door
You lead me, and open it as well, for
Guidance and discerning are yours, and none
save you directing has e’er glory won.

O Counsel! I may distinguish right from
Left, but no more; to mark right from wrong, such
Judgement belongs to thee. Life’s very drum
Beats in or out of tune, little or much,
According to thy reckoning; your touch
Is my rule, for whate’er song the world sings,
Thou alone art the measure of all things.

O Counsel! Hear me, and to me descend!
Sweet Prudence! Guard against folly and fad!
Good Judgement, on whom I wholly depend!
Decisions without thee are all but mad,
The path which follows thee is sweet and glad!
Advisor, as discreet as thou art great,
Whoe’er seeks thy word second, asks too late!
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