The image of demise refined,
Thus, my body was confined
So dismal, doleful and discomfited
Although the wicked wish went awry
But, I still weighed 'I may die'.
Suddenly, I saw my soul stalled;
After a short time, it questioned,
"Are you aghast of death?"
This question remained on my eye,
As my tears said 'I may die'.
For whether we live,
We live unto the Lord;
And whether we relive,
We relive unto the Lord
We live or die, we are the Lord.
With this,
Confidence reported like
There is nothing worse than death
Death is assured;
Thus, we must feel 'I may die'.
You run after riches,
On the floor of the fallen men;
Remember you shall die like men,
And fall like one of the princes
What'll be your gain if you die?
Your father,
Where is he?
Does your prophet live forever?
With your power, the world is slave
Don't you think 'if I die?'
As it was,
The body will devolve by the earth
Whatever you call yourself;
Always remember,
'I may die'.
by Akinloye Gbajero S. (c. June 5, 2023).
(ref. Romans, 14:8, Psalms, 82:7, Zechariah, 1:5, Ecclesiastes 12:7).
Whom does God favor in the web?
The spider, or the fly?
My ponderance does flow and ebb
deciding which deserves to die.
Love has taught us we must respect
every living thing.
So which does His great love effect,
is discomfited under His wing?
The splendid fly with fine gauze wings,
human benefactor
cleaning dead, decomposing things,
acting as refuse collector.
Elegant spider, skilled weaver
having eight legs only,
tireless in his just endeavor,
bearing the industry solely.
So, once again I ask the question:
Whom does God favor in the web?
I don’t know, is my confession.
My ponderance does flow and ebb.
In aquamarine ran off my warmth traversing
mild meadows with swallows of ash
past the pink sunset
Three cherry cardinals swooped past partly pleased
the brook trickled near
Evading were than icon imaginings
the following fawns
the spotted taupe-hazel fawn
Three taupe robins at a white well
The magic cello hummed earlier
Sword at side passed over my warmth
through the falling cascades
off on the pink sunset
Three cherry cardinals swooped past partly pleased
The level prairie sat below
Supple were they sandaled sand
The sheer slim fawns
The discomfited shuffled fawns
Three graceless mothers in the green dell
The ravenous barb earlier crooned
Curtsy at waist my warmth traversing
Casing the waterfall behind
Off in the pink sunset
Three cherry cardinals swooped past partly pleased
The vertical crests sat above
Brighter be they than tranquil birth
The sheer slim fawns
The taller edgy fawns
Three higher vicars at the mild meadow
The adept huntsman
Ran below
In aquamarine ran off my warmth traversing
mild meadows with swallows of ash
past the pink sunset
Three cherry cardinals
When I wake up in the morning
I want new responses from me
Just like the mule climbing up-mountain
My perception grinds to a churn
Inside the mask I have learned to jump through hoops
Those hoops are my successive and continual gates of learning
(If you will
When you can)
Though my eyes fill with tears tonight
Like the spring I had prayed for
The need to allow sadness to be and not
Drugged or shrugged by the discomfited few
To be alone in the darkness and give power and full reign to your sorrow
This is real and healing freedom
Like the cousin lurking in the shadows of your favorite room
Smiling and waiting for you
The only one that believes in your magic
The only one holding a candle
Once again, you’re putting out your blinds
It’s this wicked game you play at minds
With the chiseled pot concealed,
My heart’s cards are now revealed.
I’m getting broken down again.
You’ve locked me up into this stain,
And as I try to raise heart’s chase
You lay there still, poker faced.
You force me into this blinding bet
Where no one is allowed to check,
Still you show me all your faces
As your wretched cards take their places.
‘Guess I have to get a grip,
Your words are dealing against my lip.
For they’re begging me to call
And see if I’ve lost my heart at all.
I’m no longer your full (fool) of hearts,
Letting you invade my private parts.
I’ve beseeched for long enough
For you to fall from your discomfited bluff.
You stand as an immortal Ace,
Wounded through my composed face.
Though I never knew it could,
My heart is now lost for good.
© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila
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