All I had, I gave

 My chin presses wearily into my chest,

The weight of my head to heavy to hold.

The sword in my hand slides slowly to rest,

Against my limp leg, chipped, bloody and dull.

Every sinew and muscle has been put to the test,

Now utterly spent, shaky, achy and cold.

My steed, he hobbles weakly up to the crest,

when over the hill, my Lord I behold.

The splendor of His face, I could never have guessed.

Cracked lips part, with a gasp as the past takes it's toll.

I plunge to the ground, my body bruised; a mess,

The pain settles in and begins to hammer my skull.

"My Lord!" I cry, "I gave all I had. My best."

His arms encompass me like pieces to a mold.

Warmth floods me, my wounds hurt less and less.

"Well done." He whispers. My sins are rendered null.

The Danger of Anger

 "You can't paint a clock with mercury and not expect to lose your teeth."

She said as I stood there with my jaw clenched hard enough that the heat of my wrath evaporated the tears of my sorrow. My shoulder's sagged as I realized what she meant.

Rage can mask grief. It is an armor that protects us from the arrows of woe. Unfortunately, armor comes with a sword and a blindness. It seeps into every crevice of our life, harmfully affecting that which we are charged to protect. Within it, we lose all other feeling, good and bad. Often not realizing it until we gaze upon the wreckage in our wake. 

You cannot wield it without harm.

Death

I want to meet him.

Death. 

The one who has taken 

everything from me to keep. 

We must be similar if we 

love all of the same things.

Pitcher

 Many say they’re tired

But does your skin fall from your bones?

Do your eyes sink in the sockets

And your mouth go dry as stone? 

Some people are a pitcher

And others are a cup

The pitcher pours and pours

But the cups they never fill up

Alone

 They judged me to be judgy

As I sat there in silence drinking in the intriguing chatter 

They judged me to be judgy

As my face does not rest in smiles and laughter

They judged me to be judgy

I stutter responses as my thoughts scatter

So I keep to myself

In my place in the rafters

So I keep to myself

Surrounded by empty cans and candy wrappers

They judged me to be judgy 

Little do they know how much that matters

Dirty

 My mirror is dirty

And I can’t wipe it clean

I know my worth

But that’s not who I see

How can my body

God loves so much

Not be the one 

you yearn to touch? 

Day after day

I fight an urge

To mar the image

The painful surge

“Why are you on your phone so much?”

 It’s the easiest way to turn off

The voices in my head

Makes my mind go numb

And my thoughts go dead

A way to stop the torment

Of constant stress and strife

Forgetting responsibility 

Pressing pause on life

But to turn off the bad

You turn off the good

For love needs pain

My mind understood

 

I feel like I no longer write or do things of creation.

Worries have crushed my sight, destroyed imagination

Broken

 It hurts

Please don't make me stay

I just need pain relief

Even for one day

I cry

I'm not strong enough

For the valley ahead

There's more pain than love

Fix me

I'm much too broken

To be light in this world

I'm much too broken

 i feel good…

a scary realization for someone who has felt bad for so long.

how long will it last?

i tread lightly so not to break my own heart again.

Are you ok?

 I watched her fall

My hands stood still

Breath caught in my throat

I didn’t know

She won’t listen

Oh I’m too young

Excuses. Excuses.

Why didn’t I?

Use my small voice 

Are you ok?

my King

 i am broken

my heart of glass has been cast upon the ground

it has been trampled until it is nothing but dust

i was told by my King that this world would hate me

i had no idea how much

i cling to the promise that one day i will be made whole 

this promise is true

i do not matter to this world

it does not love me

the world is only my temporary home

i complete the tasks my King has set before me

and the world may never know my merit

breached

 if my eyes are dams to hold

they are cracked and weakened

for the river of thought doth flow

dark and sad and weeping

Condemnation

 

The Valley

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

       The chain of Satan wrapped ‘round my neck.

             It rubs and chafes and splits my skin,

                     My soul asunder, my heart a wreck.

My tears no longer leave a trail,

       My throat is dry, I cannot wail.

             The flame of hope flickers low within,

                     It gasps for breath in a stone cold jail.

Which path goes up? Which path goes down?

        What road leads in? What road leads out?

               I feel my mind engulfed in sin.

                     “Help!” I scream. “Send aid!” I shout.

Though I travel through the valley of death,

         I fear no evil, screeching breath.

               My soul is Yours, You dwell within.

                      My comfort is Your rod and staff.

Prejudicial

We all stumble on different rocks,

gasp for air in different seas,

cannot escape a different box,

tumble down from different trees.

Our struggles seem worlds apart.

Are mine harder than yours?

All of them have taxed our hearts.

Every face has felt tears pour.

Although your sea was fathoms deep,

my tree to climb was miles high.

Please hold my hand when it is steep

and I'll hold yours in times you cry.

Masterpiece

No child in this universe comes to be by chance. God picked up His needles and made a masterpiece. He knew you would get worn out. He knew you would become tattered and broken, but that didn't scare Him. For He knew that He had created you strong enough to withstand the storms. He sewed within you bravery, love and perseverance. He buttoned you up with joy and zipped you shut with compassion. He supplied you with patches of forgiveness for when the people around you tear holes through your skin. He pins you up on his clothesline of grace, so that the winds of love can dry the tears from you faded, beaten cheeks. And a day will come when He will pick you up, from where you limply lay, and wash away all the dirt, mar and wounds from the world. He will take you home to be cherished and He will give you rest. 

The warrior’s eyes are wide and wild,

As into danger’s face she stares.

You could not guess her heart was pounding.

You could not see that she was scared.

She took her stance, tall and strong.

Darkness was unprepared,

By the courage she possessed,

The beautiful heart she proudly bared.

I let me slip

And now they tread

So light and far away

So scared I’ll trip

And lose my head

No trust that I am sane

I didn’t flip

My mind’s not dead

Please give me trust again

                                 
Guilt is a disease. A slow                                   .
infection spread by evil                                    
deeds. It burrows it's vile                                
head underneath your                                        
exposed chest and eats                                  
away at your heart.                                      
The memory of evil festers                        
and grows into an                                             .
unsurmountable mass.                                      
You can act perfect,                                          
unblemished, but deep down,                          
guilt says you are
unforgivable, irredeemable
until, slowly, you begin to
believe it.


Redemption is a medicine
it seeps into your soul,
clearing the muck.
It does not rid you of guilt,
but encases it and locks it away,
allowing joy and light to burst
forth from within. You may not
be perfect
You may be blemished.
But you are forgiven.
You are redeemed.