"fightings" poems
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee Whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
4.4k
The raindrips are dropping outside for a change,
some way I still feel them draining through my decrepit veins.
Thunderous applause for the storms that wage,
The wars that I've paid for with my strayful ways, day after day.
Come now,
Come play in the swaying waves forming aside my imminent lines,
The ones that play and play on,
Bouncing and rebounding around inside my mind(s).
Tip, typing away,
Fueled by the fires outside this time.
Each of these rampant keys seal away the pains that fray these frail heartstrings.
Filling the gutters with the utterances that speak the futile fightings,
Flying through the air,
With the nimbus lighting my way through the faintest of nighttime scenes,
Hoping these barely discernable dreams are the ones that will see me through the day.
Easing my restless heart with the chaos rains that thunder and pour,
They sway my mind to sleep.
Pray,
that it will all be over soon,
or perhaps,
even today.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 9:06 PM UTC
just like femine to menstral chains
deep lovers dont get used to heart break pains
tear filled eyes
hear tear with forever lies
you didnt stay a day more
with no second thought you gave me a blow
dislocated jaws
beds turned to snow
stupid i feel remembering yesterday
with the promises that now stay at bay
you forgot im too made of clay
and i can get washed away
the day you left was also the day i died
the bitternes drained me to dry
to stop tears; that i try
bt its obvious i will never fly
so this is an open letter to you my darling
i miss those warm nights and pillow fightings
im still gathering my words to start writting
the problem is that i blab and write nothing
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 7:07 AM UTC
Lost in our sweet memories
When we gave each other companies
talking about our future families
While having bread with mayonnaise
Those stupid little baby fightings
And cute midnight dinner lightings
The whole of our crazy datings
Has now become meaningful paintings
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC