My soul grieves
for a soul;
a life lost,
to the world,
cold.

The world,
this life
full of pressure
she cannot keep.

So she frees
her soul,
for her soul
to cling to a
soul.

He tries
to stand on
the soles of
his feet

O how
he stumbles
and falls.

But how he bears,
for a life to be
shared with
a soul that
clings to his soul.

This spirit
awakened
from memory,
calls to his
bitter aid.

And as if
not even God can save him,
he is bound, chained
to the promise
he made.

O how my soul
grieves for
his soul!
And as he grieves
and weeps for
his own

It is far too late now.

Bound
between two dimensions
a chain.
'Til he fulfills
the promise made
to her.

A promise
for a dead soul.

Feelings
are just mere feelings ,
and words
are just words.

What do they mean;
What significance do they bear?

This is a poem about
how I can no longer
write poems
like I used to.

The colours are all
drained.
The pen is left
with no ink.
The paper, empty
blank.

What's the meaning of life?
To breathe, to love,
to write?
Why is there this emptiness;
why the lack?

When will my inspiration
come back

to me?

"I'm sorry"
The echo
that fills the cracks
in the spaces in between
pieces of a broken heart
of damages dealt and received
regrets and areas of lack
of missing the mark and
not measuring up to par
or not being good enough
for the other


"Thank you"
The simple whisper of
a soul found and mended
a stomach well fed
lungs filled with breath to sing
of gifts given and received
of lovingkindness graciously bestowed
of embracing the other


"I love you"
The tender glance of eyes
beholding beauty
the cries of joy
of a revived heart beating pompously
The strength renewed to a fallen warrior
restored to eternal glory
redeems every "sorry"
overflows every "thank you"
and always lavishing
declaring

"Beloved, I live for you."

-thepoeticwit

If love is what saves a life
I will love you ever so passionately
hug your bones so tight
It squeezes the hell out of you
the hell you're suffering from
madness, loneliness, sub-existence,
feelings of worthlessness, feelings of lovelessness
I will tell you how much I love you
To make sure you know you are loved
Envelope your mind in light
Set life into the course of your veins
flowing through you
Fill you with gifts of joy and peace,
clothe you in goodness and mercy
when you fall, I will use all the strength in these arms to lift you up
my shoulders to prop your head while you rest and weep,
my ears to pay attention to the echo of your heart beat through your words and expressions
my eyes to look after you and out for you, to watch over you, to adore and admire you
I will spend my time with you
be present, be there for you
just to see you smile
just to see you live
just to see you grow
just to see you alive and beautiful
If love is what saves a life, no,
if love is what gives life
then let me fight
for your right
to live.

To the lover I've never met
I can't imagine
how beautiful you are

Because to put you
within the limits of my mind
would be to dishonour you

Yet I imagine you
as glorious as the sun
as graceful as the skies by day
as precious as the air I breathe
as peaceful as streams of living water

Dear darling
If only you knew
How I yearn to behold your light
to see the warmth of your countenance
to see the only curve I'd ever need
which is your smile

To look upon you
and say
Darling
You are beautiful
Just the way you are

Yet I can't imagine
How beautiful you really are;
I can only dream so much
and I, not wanting to do you disservice.

For the lover I've never met:
when we do meet
we shall share in the warmth
of an embrace

And I shall realise
such a beauty I have yet
to behold.

Blue was the winning streak that lasted decades.
The colour that held our sadness and sighs
our frustrations and cries
in silence.

Blue was the night sky
that beheld the moon and the stars
who gave their light
promising the warmth of a new day.
Even they knew that God
was watching.

Yellow was our rallying cry!
For justice to be restored,
so that righteousness
would rule once again,
as it always has reigned
in our hearts.

Red, the hope flowing through
our veins as we anticipate
the rise of a new day.
Red, the sacrifices we were
willing to make.
Red, the blood shed for this land.

Red, our new victory!
our new clarity,
our new vision,
our new hope.

Now, white for all the
unfilled spaces in between
the empty gaps like
the potholes in the road
that had collapsed long ago

For all the possibilities
that are yet to be
realised

White, a reminder:
we still have a long way to go.

You scream
You cry
You curse
at the wind

You let it all out
not wanting to hold it
within.

Let it all out
On Twitter;
Like a bird
in the lonely air
yet full of other
winged creatures
full of care

Like a bird
in lonely skies
you twitter;
you know,
it's either they
hear you or they
don't.

You tweet,
knowing followers
don't pay much
attention.

You tweet,
your sadness and frustrations
Wanting help
to pull you from hell.

You're lost,
just waiting to be found.
But you know
while you need that
You don't want the pity,
You don't want the reactions
You don't want the pressures
You don't want to be looked down upon
You don't want the pain

You don't want the
You don't want to
You don't want
You don't
You

You
Twitter,
not knowing
someone is watching from the distance
not knowing that person cares for you
while he, not knowing how to tell you:

I want to help you.
I can find you and I can save you.

I just don't know how to,
since you tweet like live birds
sing in the sky

Talking to you
May very well be
shooting you down.

Why do we glory
in the death of
a Saviour?

Did He die
so we could live in vain?
Did He die
for our gain?

Why give Your life
for theirs
When they still
live in the transgressions
that You payed for,
the very same sins
that killed You?

Why glory upon
the death of
the Saviour?
Was His sacrifice
for nothing?

Why do we slave over
the image of
a dead Man on
that tree?

Why do we have to
offer sacrifices
at the altar,
when One sacrifice is
all it needs?

Why do we glory
upon the death
of the Saviour?

Shouldn't it remind us
of the glory
of dying to ourselves
so we could live?

Hasn't He resurrected?
If He still lives
why treat Him
like a dead man?

Remember then
when He comes again
and when we
tremble upon
not the death but
the life
of a righteous
Judge.

Repent.
Do not glory
in your sins.
Don't be complacent
just because a price was paid;
there is more you need to sacrifice
for the sake of your soul.

Why glory
in the death of
the Saviour?
No, instead
watch the glory
of the living God.

Nobody knows
the end of the world
Whether in a million years
or tomorrow.

Nobody knows
the day they die
whether a few more decades
or a few more hours

Nobody knows
the true value
of time.

Nobody knows
but rather
everybody is confused

Is there a God out there?
It makes sense to say
yes
But there's reason
to say
no.

Who knows?

Nobody knows
if the Earth is round
or flat
in fact
There's much controversy
surrounding that.

Nobody knows
whether we vanish
into the oblivion
that is
non-existence,
or whether there really is
an afterlife.

Angels
or Aliens?
Demons
or illnesses?

There is a plague
called "possibility"
that infects
the minds of
everybody
who waits and thinks
and hopes
for the truth

But what is
"Truth"?

Is it real,
or just another mere

possibility?

Woe to humanity
who has severely fallen
who “in the image and likeness
of God” they say
are disfigured, like the devil.

Woe to humanity!
They really do have fallen.
They go all out to war
to exploit and condemn all flaw
and all that’s different between them.

Woe to humanity…
They have yet to preserve life
There is no peace
For they have yet to cease
the fire that has burnt us down.

Woe to humanity,
their prayers are in vain.
Salvation is but
the things of this world
and all they have yet to gain.

Woe to humanity
who has so much to offer.
And yet we have failed
and all the more,
fallen.

My eyes have encompassed all the world
Surveying its glory and splendour
Civilisations advance
Society cultivating cultures
Technology, created and innovated
By human beings being knowledgeable
Expanding capacity, capital, territory
In terror, losing identity
Working, moving, breathing
They cry

“Worthy!”
But is this worthy?

My eyes have encompassed all the earth
Surveying her beauty, her majesty
Mountains, hills, and forests of lush green
Beasts and creatures of all shapes and sizes
Oceans, seas, rivers, clear blue sky
They all seem to cry

“Worthy!”
Is there more to this?

My eyes gaze into the heavens
Pondering all their mysteries
Planets, systems, billions of stars
Galaxies upon galaxies lightyears afar

And I hear in the distance
Echoes of angels and heavenly hosts
Thrones, dominions, powers, rulers
Saints and elders around a radiant throne

They all cry
“Worthy!”

I bow my head in awe
And in silence reflected
What the measure of a man is worth
In the grand scheme of things
Where one exists amidst seven billion
Working tirelessly to no end
Amid a vast and glorious creation
Which will all draw to an end

Am I worthy?

And I hear in the distance
The one called Worthy seated on the throne
Calls out to me

“From the dust have I fashioned you
Formed you into My image
From the lowliest estate have I given you
Heavenly heritage
My child
Once an outsider, an enemy
have I bought you with my shed blood.

You are made worthy
For I am Worthy
As with all who are Mine.

So define not your worth on futile things
Or others who lack the clarity to see
You are worthy
As I am Worthy

Worry not your worth
Which is found only
in Me”.

“It just feels like yesterday”,
you say.
Everything is just yesterday.

For the days have gone behind us,
the months disappear into thin air,
the years turn to dust as they all
fade into the night.

But as the sun arises
We see that a new day has dawned.
And yet, everything has changed in
the blink of an eye;
short yet long,
mysterious the time.

Such is yesterday.

“It just feels like yesterday”,
you say.
Everything is just yesterday.

For the days have gone behind us,
the months disappear into thin air,
the years turn to dust as they all
fade into the night.

But as the sun arises
We see that a new day has dawned.
And yet, everything has changed in
the blink of an eye;
short yet long,
mysterious the time.

Such is yesterday.