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HOPE BY N3
Slashed at the throat a blow aimed not at the esophagus but at the vocal cords
Paralyzed by something worst than fear,
Speech grows limp even as silent screams are constrained by shame’s chord.
Tethered like a felon and led by wary oppressors, fragile from blows and scorn,
Our soul stands trial before a court where the judge is rightly wrong.
Fused with chains our voices are imprisoned and the tear cavernous to reveal speechlessness in our gullet is the only sign of our voiceless enslavement.
In steps the first witness clothed in the shroud of despair, hunched from the weight of her truthful lies, testimony of that night of lust.
That night plays out clearly; more vivid than a motion picture is that night of this slavery, blown by ripple of our thoughts, we wobbled from the comforts our beds into the confines of sexual promiscuity.
Then the witness speaks of how thirsty we seemed to taste from the well of fiendish desires even when our spirits recoiled from that fetish neediness.
Now we stand guilty of not only our immorality but also damned so we grope like one lost soul unsure of its mortality when kindled in hell’s fires.
Now a murmur of distaste and a sigh of revolt as the witness go on, not one, not two, not three not four of times we met.
No objections and no cross examinations, the court sits shouting silent accusations cause in the emptiness of our fall the only defendants present are our faults boldly stamped to our essence, 
So our souls are judged and found accountable of fanning wrongness, guilty of backsliding to a third degree.
Yes even when in church we decree in hymns our convictions of faith, yet we accept our blindness as rightness failing to visualize yet believing the devil as he feeds us visual lies then we accept as fate.
Now with smiles on a frown we say God bless you sister and amen brother with muted diction thinking we are fine while the entire world see the signs.
Yes we sign because we have gone deaf to Gods text and lost the strength of spoken words.
We are invariably held down sunken in the gloominess of this bright blackness and we face certain death because j663 say “the words I speak to you are spirit and life”
So our souls begin to gasp for his breath which gives life and spasm like hiccups hit every marrow of our soul.
Like addicts to a new drug, our spirits tear through the volumes of his words searching for a cure to this suicide.
In our dyingness we find Christ rose after 3 days in his glory and holiness not to cast us down but because he had to rise up a new people, he died to give hope.
So whenever we fall guilty, charged, and convicted of our transgressions and our voices swaddled to the cage and imprisoned by silence of our sexual encounters,
Christ still calls us to his pierced side.
And for that singleness of purpose we were proclaimed blameless because how do we stand in judgment when the lamb has made us spotless?
So brother, next time the accuser stands before you not to judge you but to condemn you remember that Christ paid the price and paid it fully not to judge you but to redeem.
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