Long Devotion Poems. These are the most popular long Devotion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Devotion poems by poem length and keyword.
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Freed from my mind
I escape it
I end time
I think it
I think nothing of it
I believe in you
I believe in the American Dream
I think of it
I think nothing
I know you are something
How is it found
Where are you going
Where are you flowing
the child is christened in the name of beginnings
I think it and it appears
I make it
Shower my notions
Employ my emotions
Destroy my devotion and crush my spirit
So hear it
where do I enjoy you
I see you
How dare you make me feel you
I don't know what to believe but I hear you
I entertain the notion that you are with me
I believe you are near me
But the truth might be sullen
So broken and sudden
Lee...Quite, I train thee
I believe you are not ready
I believe you are rock steady
How quite faulty
You are my enemy
My first born
I am so often quoted
who am i
I tell you
I am nothing but me
I dare you
How can I be anything other then me
I am someone who shines
Like it or not I don't care...don't wine
How could you
No you don't know me
You don't show me
I don't believe anything you did anyway
How could I
I am your friend ..not your enemy do I
Look at me
I think of nothing of your desires
I don't care
I think it is so amazing that you think I am flaunting my emotions
I am not
I am devotion
I am heart and saviour
Know my soul
Feel it and send me on a spirit chasing car ride like a fly trite respite
I think it
I think nothing of it
I am enjoying your pain and I suffer
It is so pure that you laugh and I wonder
How could you believe in me
I don't understand thee
I don't get you
How could you be someone I care for and let you
How do you
I do not know what you do
I just know that you do and you do it well too
How. Destroyer of worlds
You amaze me
I don't care for your words
I am action word; phase me
I forgot what it's like
I feel it daily
It or amaze me
Live die young
and escape me
I am more and more ranked and how does that take me
I don't care about games, I play them too often
I lose quite a bit and enjoy them not too breach it
where do you hold regard for my trance verb
I wonder what you'll do next in this causative turd
It is just that
It is just a wonder
I don't care what you do because doing it tears you assunder
Engage in the enemy
I slink forward and left of me
I see something coming out of you
Something dreadful and something pure
I think it is clean and dirty at the same ****ing time
How can I end it, how can I end this rhyme
I don't actually know, I don't actually care
I wonder where I left my ****ing underwear
Where what who why
When do I leave the time beat
drummers never learned to retreat
I think they just walk and walk the beat follows
how could you know the facts when you learned just to swallow
I think...damn girl you know it and you know it well
Question my rythm and cast a damn spell
So..what is left
I think nothing is here for me
But the truth is ...it remains hidden from me
Lolz. I think it is funny as hell
However divine I have never been in it oh well
I think...wait a minute hell is on earth it is not a place deep
it is here and oh damn that curse
I think it is magical, how can it be so ****ing real
I am such a spiel
I think and it happens
It just appeals
It makes me slender
I think I lost weight when I enter the rhyme world
I enter devine world
I think well oh well how I left it and hell
It is...Yes it is
It is truly a miss
I am wondering why I have never just kissed ...
But simply stuttering
I leave myself out of it
I am so plain and cluttering
How dare you make me so plain
damn girl you hate me too much to say
I think you just wanted to twist the handle deeper
I want to make you happy...so just make it hurt
It is so wonderful
it hurts but it's plainly cursed upon me
I don't care ...just stun me
I am at least careless
she wanted to just caress
I wanted to make her mine
She wanted to spend my...time
I wanted nothing more and now
I am alone and all the time in the world is left ...shone
I see it
lolz I don't care but I'm deceived by it
How dare you
How can you make me into something or other devine and not like a brother
I am so pure and destruction is so meaningless
I am so feeling less
I can't feel any longer
My heart ripped asunder and I am so blunt
Like an instrument forced by the way you want me t ojust glance at your breasts
but the rest...it's like a beautiful test?
Just a test
A test in time
I think it is just a rhyme but the truth is I am being tested by G-d
How could I know what I have done, I have not
When I do it I do it I don't just believe it
I don't care for the rhetoric
I don't deceive it..
I before e except after C and that is the question I place before you
How can you care about appostrophes and comma's
when there are more important things in life
Isn't that enough?
(The devotion of one Man’s Wife & the dangers of compulsive behavior & secrets)
She pats the side of her freshly sharp ax, tied neatly to her aprons’ taught hand towel sash; discretely concealed under a pink plastic mack.
Searching high and low for the vender that sold her husband that last fatal snack. “Are you that man? Are you that vender?!”
The woman in the housecoat pleadingly asked.
Her Husband surrounded by aromas encircled, deliciously tempting and tease him away from thoughts of his wife’s daily heart healthy fair;
Hiding in the shadows of dank back street alleys, peeking from behind a set of cast iron stairs, He solicits the street carts like five dollar whores, hoping not to be seen or known he’d been there.
Hoagies’ and grinders fully loaded w/salami, fried pepperoni, and hot melted cheese, Oozing sweet juices’, down the man’s hand to his cuffs;
All of this contributing to the poor woman’s grief.
He removed from his change purse a five that’d been hidden from his wife’s carful budget so sneakily stashed, he slipped from the shadows and whispered quite softly, “steak bomb, extra cheese, now hurry!” As he thrust out his cash!
She tried many times to curb this man’s diet, no luck with crudités’ he just wouldn’t try it. So she began to reduce the sugar, salt and fat.
He’d smile and eat it, and that was just that.
Untill she began to see signs of a most greasy nature, found on the cuffs and the knot of his tie, small specks of minutia can be quite telling,
to a methodical housewife they just do not lie.
Grease is an insidious stain, hard to remove without spoiling the grain of the weave. So she scrubbed away gently but firm on the spots, restoring the whiteness to his freshly pressed cuffs and his brown flannel tie. Just to appear again and again, “What could these stains be?” she wailed the maniacal cry!
Gorging in secret, alone in the dark, inside of a tunnel south west of the park. With the foil pealed back, the juices “Drip” flowing, down his hatch it went, not thinking or knowing of the outcome of this nasty affair.
“Luscious oh Luscious!” he says with a smack. Devouring it quick making waste of the sack. The only thing left was the wrapper you see, shoved into his pocket with ravenous glee.
This wrapper, the evidence of her husband’s demise, Displaying the months of deception and lies, lay folded, grease stained and pressed, under a tear stained hanky in the pocket at her breast. With only the word “Sal’s”, no phone, nor address.
The man gobbled quickly without aid of a drink, when it came to the heal he just did not think that the dry of the bread just might not go down as the greasy filling had, on his tie and the ground.
He shove it in last with the least little thought; getting stuck in his throat not even a cough could escape him.
In the town where they lived there were 13 Sal’s in total,
beyond the town line becoming quite vast;
but the task still moved forth to horizons imputable,
so she put on her mack and made way for the door.
He grasped at his throat, not a soul around, his face turning blue as he fell to the ground. “THUD” went the man and that’s how they found him, grease stained and stiff with sub crumbs surrounding.
She repeated once again: “Are You THAT Vender that Killed My Husband, the man I loved, so Sweet, SO TENDER?!!”
“OH NO LADY! My name is not Sal its Tony for sure ask anyone around, I’m a well known fixture in this part of town! I’ve never killed anyone, I swear on the grave of my motha, my fatha”, clasping his hands, attempting to pray……..
Not caring if he’s Tony or Guido or Sal, she removed the ax from her sash and struck the man down, two strikes, maybe three, she just couldn’t tell.
One last chop and there was gore all around; just a low gurgling from the heap was the only sound from the departing vender.
“That’s for killing my husband, so sweet and so tender”
she murmured as she slipped out of her blood stained mack and rubbers that kept her neat and clean.
She checked her list not twice but thrice and left the bloody scene.
neglect of the art and it's form is such a beautiful start
let go of the pain
let go of all emotion
the hatred is spread thin
Touched and such beautiful notions
I know you are striving
to be with you're true self
You need to be spirited away
to heaven from hell
Learn to be with everyone
equal and ..just as well
We want you all to give and to give well to others
to become one with all
and to receive one another
Leave me to pieces
break off another
Give me respect
treat us all like one brother
Let go of all hate
Let go of emotion
Isothymia...it is such a notion
Leave the shell behind
leave me when I'm blind
I can't see through the misery
I can't see through the hatred
Leave all emotions behind me now bate it
Let them out through a general great big shout!
Let them out...employ the best and the greatest
Even the meekest shall learn to not chaste it
Break off a little
bring me the rythm
Be with me a while
let me now cringe
I think I've cast enough of a tinge
desire you I must say
You are in heaven
I am a step away
When you break me
I break down and cry
all of the feelings
let them go
and now die;
Drive off all imbeciles
we need none of them
make us immortal
make us all equal
let us be touched
not by the evil
We want to be true to our spirit of choice
and recourse in the course
of the master that's yours
You are one with the beat
one with emotion
but you are not clear as to your own devotion
You need to be true to the rythm you've set
do not regret
Nor simply fret
I know you have feelings
You must not hide them
or Catharsis will never let you deny them
You will explode
Upon reaching a climax
You will react so violently
Do not be afraid
Do not recourse
Change not a thing
No not anything twice
I want you to know you are free from the spirit
you are free from the livid
the ones who don't hear it
you are quite plain and solid
stoic and brave
you will inherit the earth and not the tame
You must remember however all are equal
the reason as such is that we are so sinful
This works out too much like a plain brilliant display
I think of it now
let us not stray
I know you think me instant
insane and so distant
I never believed in the merchant
but he breathed
a sigh of relief came from the moment
the one we don't know it
but something is motioned
he wanted to give us ...no sell us
or was it a brilliant form of a swivel
I am not quite sure,
but he came at a good time
Honestly when...is there no simple rhyme
I worked with the dead
I've worked with the living
The simple and meek
the drone and deceiving
I know what it's like
to be told what to do
to be guided by life
to be sinful and true
I know that it's different when you are so plain
Can't you just see it?
are you that tame?
When is it then is it over and under
When the plain and the pain of the drivel is thundered
I know you are equal
Cathartic and sequel
Impart all emotion upon earth and be full
Plato concerned with the thymos
Was always so near it
so plain and not fear it
I Thought to myself
how is it that there's justice
I know it is lustless
So simple and bustless
Erotic and frolic
I know it is all moot
the point is ofcourse that I am not at all put
We all have our dignity
our pride in our work
contribution's we make
to our daily breads spork
I know...kind of funny that rhyme makes no money
I think to myself, oh gee
Then I'm not at all sunny
not equal to anyone
not equal to me
Not equal not stranded
not branded by thee
I can't be bought
I can't be sold either
defend me so lively
I slide and I slither
Escape from the grated carfull of hatrded
I dance and am elated
by a sinful of damned
Emotionless hateful and something so penned
I know what to say but to say it means work
I despise all of that and I simply just quirk
all of us are vehicular
We drive others crazy
and are driven by cynica
I despise the pure strive
I can defend you and you are so alive
I know you are crazy
I know you are blind
the way of the motionless mess is so trite
Dance with the wildflowers
take me into your heart
and make me yours.
n the morning as I awake tired and groggy I slowly open my eyes to start the day
Although at first all I can think of is that first cup of coffee, as the cat whines
for food, the husband yaps at me I notice I am not in the greatest mood
Although when I wake up a little more I hear knocking on my hearts door
i know it is Jesus Asking to come in I just tell him latter not now
I am in a hurry don't you see Everybody else is counting on me
I have so much stuff to do and just no time for you So I finish my coffee
and play games on my phone An hour latter I leave home
Slowly I make my way to school I toss my stuff down as I sign in
I talk to my friends as they see me Come in
Although within my heart once again I hear a cry Child why not spend time with me
Oh can't you see I yell I am just to busy Okay okay
I will wait but please hurry before it is too late you'll be waiting a long time
I have too much on my mind I have lawyers, courts to deal with
I have school family Friends that need me
Decisions and choices to make and the voice than asked me
Oh child when will you ever see All you need to do is choose is me
Lord I told you I am just to busy There is too much going on in my life
I don't have time to read your word I have to much strife along with all
these problems ..Aha haven't you heard
No child you never speak with me
Remember there is never enough time in your day
to kneel down on one knee
and Pray to me You don't even know me and
Yet you call me Lord
Oh yes I do I tell you the truth
Oh child you are blind
You never let me lead You never give me the time
When is the last time that you read my words
or even gave me five minutes in your day
Child child when is the last time you even
prayed?Last night when I ate dinner
I said grace and I read a short devotion for a few moments in church
But lord I have to work
You should know Lord I do spend time with you and I do pray
That is when he asked For who you?
What about your sister who told you
things that were wrong in her life
You said you would pray for her
But yet you lied
Oh lord Cant you see I just do not have the time
I have to many things going on in my life and
to many problems on my mind child
I see that you really do not love me
Because if you did you would be kind to others and pray daily
Lord you know I have a good heart
you made me in your image
Child you spend all your time worshiping you
That is not why I made you
What do you mean I asked?
Child if you love me this is what you would do
You would think of others besides just you
I do lord I think of them everyday
Yet you do not even pray
To the creator that made you
Think of it have you ever had a chance to put him first Yes...
Then why don't you direct your heart to thirst for him
Your right I have ignored him
Child just know I am with you where ever you go
In your trials In your sorrows
But child be careful what you put off for tomorrow or it may be too late
and death than would be your fate Chose today Child and pray
You have enough time in your life To make you mine
Now let me show you the difference between Jesus and religion
Some of you might be blind, get ready to gain some vision
Now religion and Jesus are two different things
Jesus is different in the joy that he brings
See religion always requires us to do more
It doesn’t seem like a blessing, but more like a chore
It takes hold of us, it becomes our master
You better watch out cause its coming faster and faster
What it requires of us is always more works
And if we do better, then in return we get more perks
It’s like the more we do, the higher we are on the latter
But the higher we get, the more room we have to fall and shatter
Aiming for works will only leave you graspin’
It’s gonna hurt so bad, youre gonna need an asprin
All it does is take from us, its never enough
Its not focused on Jesus but on all this other stuff
Its all about our outward appearance
And that we can look better with just a little more perseverance
Our inside is dirty, so we try to mask it
But we don’t realize that its just putting us deeper into a casket
The outside might be pretty, but the inside is unclean
It becomes so regular, you start to become like a machine
Alright cmon lets take a closer look
Youre not a christain just cause it says so on your facebook
You start to find yourself just going through the motions
You think youre saved only because you do devotions
Now devotions are awesome, but they must come from the heart
Don’t get me wrong, they’re a great place to start
You go to church? Ya that’s great
But that alone doesn’t get you through the heavenly gate
But all we need is grace found in Jesus
We need to think more about him, and not just whatever pleases us
For he is truly the only thing we need
And to get this, all we need to do is believe
Jesus wants us, he’s calling us in
He loves us despite of all of our sin
Hes calling us close, not pushing us away like a broom
Hes pulling us in saying cmon theres room
Jesus death was truly sufficient
So the question is why are we acting so resistant?
He saved us for sure, no strings attached
To this, no other guarantee can be matched
There is no better offer that we can get
We can forever be with God, our future will be set
This is the way it was intended, even from our birth
For God takes us in and shows us what we are worth
So we were adopted and are now to him a son or daughter
But not to an earthly man, but to the heavenly father
Man look at that, what a happy reunion
We can all sit at his table and take part in his communion
And now, we’re all together again
And that’s how its gonna be to the very end
Now remember, Religion says Do, Jesus says Done
The only reason we’re saved is because of the Son
Between religion and Jesus, you have to know the difference
Because from sin Jesus is our only source of deliverance
It’s unfortunate that I fall for your type
Because it always means there’s more than one
A decision to make, moments of weakness
Where my mind flutters like a butterfly in the sun.
I try to remain strong
But, succumbing to my weakness, I fail
Fluttering aimlessly, I don’t consider the
Consequences my actions will entail.
Now we’re here, same bed but
Facing in different directions
So we see the same situation differently.
I see weakness, you see failure in my imperfections.
In the vein of love, I look deep in your eyes
And gaze at your heart with the purest smile
But, in the vein of weakness, I look into eyes,
Not yours, as temptation beguiles.
In the vein of love, I caress your
Soul with my being, all of me.
In the vein of weakness, I caress the body
Of another, not yours, then becometh of the fall of me.
Love for you, lust for another.
Some say it’s the weakness of man.
We make love and there’s the deepest connection
While I embrace you, tight as though I just can’t lose you.
I treat you like the most fragile glass, handling you
Gently as I softly gaze through you.
I see all of you. Where you need to be touched
And where you need to be kissed,
Ensuring, as I negotiate every one of your curves
There’s no area missed.
I ensure to look straight into your eyes, the
Windows to your deepest emotion
So you can look straight into mine and only
See tender devotion.
The admiration of your perfection
But there’s a weakness of man.
The love and drive for one can easily
Become the lust for another.
Don’t act as though you don’t understand.
I believe we ALL have that situation where we consider a lover.
The stand-in, the partner that
Covers that invented 20 percent
Like in reality, I break from the rhyme form
To cover the 20 percent.
For it’s a wandering from,
Not a wandering to.
I know breaking away doesn’t find the twenty.
In fact, of percentage, it doesn’t find any
But it’s never the truth when confronted, in weakness,
Often induced by the Henny.
Have you noticed I called this
The Weakness of Man?
In your search for the 20 Percent, at the bottom of
The bottle, you’ll find about 8 Percent volume
Total emptiness as you discover you don’t know
What you’ve got til it’s gone.
Then the 20 Percent is over and you realize
Taking 8 Percent from 100 is wrong.
Did you catch the math?
The weakness of man.
For those that don’t get it, I mean mankind
The human species, that’s all of us
And the weakness is ourselves.
We can only ever go before the fall of us.
Love, lust. The battle will never cease.
While there is life, the weakness of man will ever be
But where there is weakness, there is strength to be gained
So, never lust but love, love we strive to see.
Roses in the garden,
Roses in the world,
But now roses curled...
Peach roses show modesty,
Peach roses show gratitude,
However, they are often insincere...
Yellow roses seem to care,
Yellow roses show friendship,
However, they are often joyless and jealous...
Pink roses communicate sweetness,
Pink roses radiate elegance,
However, they are often unthankful...
Orange roses have desire,
Orange roses show their pride,
However, they are often impassive...
Purple roses are majestic,
Purple roses express love at first sight,
However, they are often repulsed and unenchanted...
Green roses are harmonious,
Green roses carry hope,
However, they are often unpeaceful...
Blue roses like dreaming,
Blue roses are imaginative,
Blue roses desire to know the unknown,
Blue roses are mysterious,
However, they are often elusive and unattainable...
Red roses are emotional,
Red roses are devotional,
Red roses are respectful,
However, they are often remorseful, sorrowful and mistaken...
Gold roses are occassional,
Gold roses like memories,
Gold roses are preserved,
However, they are often misinterpreted and confused...
White roses are pure,
White roses have innocence,
White roses are spiritual,
White roses carry secrecy,
However, they are often arrogant...
Silver roses are rare,
Silver roses like to grow,
Silver roses convert fantasy into reality,
However, they are often lost and uneasy,
But they seem unpredictable and mystical...
Black roses are mysterious,
Black roses are rebirth,
However, they often remain elusive,
They often symbolize death and loss,
But they are unpredictable and silent,
Though, they are often harmed...
Roses in the garden,
Roses in the world,
But now roses swirled and twirled...
Although, now peach roses are lying,
Yellow roses turning jealous and browned,
Pink roses being unsweet and unthankful,
Orange roses being impulsive and compulsive,
Purple roses being repulsed and revulsed,
Green roses losing hope and harmony,
Blue roses being undiscovered and lost,
Red roses being regretful and voided,
Gold roses bewildered and confused,
White roses losing purity and innocence,
Silver roses turning black and unused,
And black roses silenced and unborn...
All there is to see are roses vanishing,
All there is to feel are roses withering,
In a bed of bleeding roses...
screwed.bumped.bruised.fingers caressing a flossy silhouette which happens to be a cup of
brewed coffee.savoring its stunning richness while helplessly drowned in sincere fondness
from its hypnotic scent.better than hell.better than a new-mown hay.better than anything
else that i have sniffed. it's captivating whiff has a distinct likeness from a baby's
breath.sweet.innocent.unknowing.it somehow appeases the wrath trapped in yearning that
once shook my bone and cracked my shoulders.better than a morning mist.better than a
perfume on my wrist.a way better than my alcohol breath. it soothes the voice of grievance
that once remained unheard,spoiled,wormed caused by some ungodly reasons that transcend
such human beliefs.'twas like holding a huge sneeze frightened to blurt it out for people
are destined to say ewww!
then i stutter, the wind that passes through my windowpane,gently fondling my skin as if
into my soul, tends to be humid.
bound.broken.half death.nothing left moving but a heart that pounds its own flesh and a
mouth that pushes a dying breath.dried lips have been refueled by an extinct satisfaction
brought by a tea-like pungency of such heaven scent.better than chocolates.better than a
chilled whiskey. better than a guilty pleasure in my bed.tangled in drastic devotion on
how it bathes a craving tongue down to a thirst throat as it replenishes a brittle heart.
tied into its bizarre bitterness that hinders a body from aching as it pulls a grown-up
litany from its own wreckage.its caffeine d tartness sympathizes upon a burning
discernment. like a flickering ember playing on its flares. burning hot burning
slow.burning until its own gleam stops from its own glow.
ironic as it seems, the wind that passes through my windowpane continuously swishing
humidity as it was.
torn. numb. trembled. clock tick-tacking as it performs its obliged morning ritual that
leads my ear to its bleeding. both hands still slithering the polished receptacle of now
consumed must-have to death gladness while battling to gasp for air to at least ease a
particular suffer.forgetting all I'm missing. completely incomplete.still can't exude a
certain degree of contentment from its intimate delight. desperate to bring back that
bitter sweet remedy that once pulled my puzzles from bits and pieces. a passionate
obsession . a one in a million.the sweetest fun.
tonight it will be intensely bitter than the last cup.
always could then be bitter.until the wind that will pass through my windowpane wont be
humid no more-as it supposed to be.
Patradoot or The Messenger 42/50
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
You will find everything here, disarranged and disturbed,
Like the shining less face of my sad beloved, dear letter,
When you would reach along with her, on her bed,
To take a rest, in the sweet company of my beloved.
That tender girl with a loving heart, looks after my patents,
As if, they are her own real father and mother, O dear letter,
Because of this great affection and love in her heart for them,
They love my beloved, more than even their precious life, dear.
Suppressing her strong desires, to know more about me dear,
She would leave, without enjoying your sweet company,
As she would be serving my patents and her dear sweet child,
With same devotion, as she gives to me, when I am there,
Dear Letter, you will get rest and peace, during the entire day,
While waiting for my beloved to get free from the day’s works,
You would recollect then, the entire message I gave to your,
For conveying it, to my beloved wife, dear letter,
When she would retire from day’s long works and duties, dear,
She would run hurriedly towards you, O dear letter,
With tears of happiness in her eyes, she would appear before you,
Adoring you in her mind, since you have messages from her love,
Kanpur India 31st Oct. 2010 to continue in 43
Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can
Send me an email on email@example.com
Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.
He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
THERE HE WAS HOLDING OUT HIS HAND.
God can I hold your hand and go with you?
My sweet child, it is I who will walk with you now! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth... Your love and devotion is what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You always ran up to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles of tribulations. We could not speak, but it was my light that would not allow you to get weak.
Is this that dream of beauty? The one in the book my preacher spoke of.
Yes! I remember it now it is call paradise. I felt this company once before, Lord.
Many times, I have forsaken this light, and still it never left my door.
I felt it the day I was born, and the day I became baptize in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it some more?
Lord please clarify that day I fell down to my knees and accepted Jesus as my savior?
Every day since, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my own failures’. Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road. This light never left you.
My sweet child did you not listen, Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. My child you were not searching for the right answers.
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray right?
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself, which left questions for someone else.
At times how could I answer when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your souls disguise.
Lord, I have other questions to ask.
What should I expect out of my personal sins? My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand.
My mind and my hearts inner core were wicked since my adolescence days.
How is it that I am in your promise land?
Getting right with me is brought you here!
One more question My Heavenly Father.
Can I see her? I meant, could I see them? My Daughter My Mother and My Sisters~