and there she is,
known as cruel wicked for speaking.

her hair was tied,
her neck was strangled,
her eyes were poked,
her lips were stapled,
her arms were rotated,
her feet were collected,
and she were dressed into something new.

but she did not like it all,
and broke the strings above her.
they called her a demon,
setted her into fire,
darted her heart with spears,
dragger her into venous snakes,
tangled her with ruling hurricane,
just to let her meet their god, lucifer.

yet she is still there standing,
hoping until her last breath—
after all, she is the woman of god
who died from people she devoted for.

"war may be over— but inhumanity remains" ; @wordsbyhami

Lord said :

Sufferings will come my dear,
Don’t worry I’m right here.
Do not flee, do not fear,
Keep your heart clean & pure.
Utter my name and remember,
Your difficulties I shall shear.

Finally from the land distant or near,
A conch you shall hear.
Cranreuch on heart will clear,
Gifting you the divine mirror.  
Mirror unveiling your shadow was me  
You plus me what a beautiful affair !

You know it ! Not something new,
All know it, Yet experienced only by a few.
Once the betel leaf of devotion if you chew,
Shall you drown in the juice of intoxicating brew.
Remember! Once I enter, don’t you try to shoo,
For thy devotion, in thy heart forever I stay glued.

Here I come fulfilling my promise,
I’m forever yours, a mere servant at your service!

Speaking in tongues in accordance of
      The audience, prior the winds of your voice
To be spoken in my ear of that accordion
      Accordingly so of the bellows—the chorus of
Love in that mellow tone of a Holy orchestra
      A symphony of the Bible; all revealing many mysteries
As I constantly read more of you

All the text setting a picture of your context
my joy is content: not like a performance
      Of this world's contest

Psalms 121:1‭-‬2 NIV
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

So as the top would say;
I'd lift my eyes higher than the mountains
    To you Lord—
Of where my help comes from everyday

So I pray: to be humbled by your grace—
    non dependent on man to guarantee the will
Of your way
    In Jesus name I pray, Amen.

If suffering is happiness
and tears are love
I am devotion itself
break me
I’ll pen thank you notes in blood

you want to see
how soft and tender my flesh is
and crack the inside of my mind open
like a pomegranate,
ruby jewels spilling onto white sheets.
i offer my plum ripe heart to you greedily
prey wanting to be hunted,
only to be left with sticky hands
from trying to hold myself together
when you walk away.