Heart racing, mind searching for answers.
So stuck. On the brink of tears.
Yet He remains good.
The need to control, the need to know.
Holding my breath for certainty that won't come.
Yet He remains good.
He holds my future in His hands.
With hope and purpose in His plans.
And for that, He is good.
Walking in circles under the dripping canopy's leaves,
repeating a sentence someone gave him at twenty.
Terrorise your enemies.
The world moved on while he stood still,
saluting the old invisible flag.
Stand your ground.
Voices called his name from the edge of the trees,
but every kindness sounded like a trick.
Never surrender.
Counting the years by how many ghosts went silent,
the mission remained loud in his head.
Hold the line.
Better to starve than admit the hunger was pointless,
rather be feared than feel foolish.
Show no retreat.
It is not truth that convinces him,
but a formal command,
stepping out of the past.
"Lay down your arms."
So, Onoda walked out of the jungle at last,
wearing three decades of orders as his only story.
His identity.
I surrender
My anger right now to God
Because I need to get rid of
My anger
That is slowly growing like cancer
I surrender my diabetes to God
Because I need to be cured from
Diabetes right now
Because I want to be healthy again
Also I am sick of being sick
That is the truth my God
My God can you keep me alive tomorrow
If that is possible God
Yes God we are at the end of Summer again
Now we are going to change the clocks back
One hour
And the days will be shorter
You don't know how much I hate that
My God
I also surrender my depression to you
Because I want to live a life
Without depression
God you know me very well
Because you are the one that created me
With your holy hands
A master weaver working infinite looms,
Who spans the endless dark with silver thread,
An architect of stars and quiet rooms,
Who breathed upon the dust to wake the dead.
The steady pulse beneath the ocean’s chest,
The potter’s fingers shaping living clay,
A silent shore where weary orbits rest,
The origin of night and light of day.
Yet between my fragile heart and your boundless grace
Lies a canyon carved by human doubt and space—
A wide expanse no ship could ever cross,
Where earthly wisdom turns to total loss.
To seek your favor and your gentle eye,
I’d lay my stubborn pride down in the dust.
I’d give up every dream beneath the sky,
And place my broken plans in total trust.
I’d walk through silent sands without a word,
And offer up the quiet pain I bear,
Praying that my heartbeat might be heard,
Surrendering my life into your care.
I bring my open hands, my breath, my song,
And lay my heart where it has belonged.
I offer up all that I am, and all I try to do—
Is a yield like mine enough to reach to you?
If you have to ruin me,
don't do it under kitchen lights
or in parked cars
or over phone calls filled with silence.
Take me somewhere the sky is endless.
Somewhere the stars
have been dying for years
without anyone noticing.
Let me look up at something ancient,
something that understands
how beautiful things can disappear.
And if this is the ending,
if I have to lose whatever version
of me still believes in forever,
then let it happen there.
Because I think
I'd rather break apart
Beneath constellations
Than inside another room that forgets
An iridescent streak
bifurcates the obsidian
dome,
A incandescent voyager
accelerating through the
obscurity,
Relinquishing its grand,
celestial habitation,
To dissolve into a ephemeral,
luminous fragment.
Conflagrating magnificently
across the absolute infinity,
It manifests with fierce,
unadulterated dedication,
Exchanging its permanent,
prehistoric illumination,
To bestow an instantaneous
warmth upon our souls.
For what is preservation
within the remote cosmos,
Juxtaposed against this
singular encounter in your
presence?
I would joyfully witness the
ancient firmament
disintegrate,
To participate in this fleeting,
majestic trajectory.
Like that radiant anomaly, I
surrender my entirety,
Content to completely
dissipate, if our devotion
remains absolute.
His snore was surrender.
She watched the man sleep
Inside the ruin he built.
The argument was what
Burnt dried wood turn to.
The calm was colder than morning mist.
She looked at the door,
Not as wood, but as verdict.
Loveless shackles. Clanging keys.
“Course set,” her spine said.
Purpose loaded her chest.
She stood. No goodbye.
Liberation had hinges
That the door couldn't control.
The endless aching sobs
of the whispers of rain in the storm
pierce my trembling heart
with a slow devouring languor
that only you can soothe
Suffocating
pale with longing
when the midnight hour tolls
I drown in memories of you
your touch
your voice
your eyes
and I weep
with unbearable sweetness
yet I surrender
carried helpless
on this wild warm wind
scattered here and there
like a dead leaf in storm
but burning
alive
forever yearning
to fall back into you
The world is turning furious and fast,
A story told in storms and sighs,
But I have left the shoreline of my past
And all the hollowness of my eyes.
Let others count the letters in the stone
And hug the coldness of a distant sign;
I found the boardwalk where You made Your throne,
And reached across the dark to gather mine.
Now take this weary heart and fold it deep,
Where mercy runs too thick for words to measure,
Past every promise that I couldn't keep,
Into the gold of Your unchanging treasure.
Oh, pull me closer than the breath I breathe,
Enfold the center till the boundaries break—
A multi-layered cocoon of pure relief,
Where love is all that stays alive, awake.
No curb can hold the bruises of the throw,
No winter chills in the nesting of Your wing;
I simply walk the way the wind will blow,
And let the silent heart begin to sing.
Wrapped up in You, with mercy all around,
The storm can roar against the outer sea
But in the middle, on this sacred ground,
There’s only Jesus, and the rest of me.
CAPITULATION
ON IRAN, TRUMP FAILS NATION
HUMILIATION
Resting in unknowingness, heart content,
our attention is drawn towards the spine,
conjoined with the heart, which accords consent,
to meld with throb of bliss currents divine.
Tranquility dissolves the taunts of time,
as we look neither ahead nor behind,
remaining transfixed on God’s bliss beat chime,
which releases us from the ego’s bind.
With nothing to attain, we wear no chain,
emitting by day and night, love and light,
flowing like the breeze, our heart free from stain,
koel’s song, epitome of delight.
The womb that holds life, itself does not move ~
All doings are done as God does approve
The day the dam finally cracked.
It sounded like a loud boom followed by several snaps.
In the distance, a warning siren.
Then there was a hurricane-like sound of water crashing through metal pipes.
I was home, unbothered when it happened, taking a long-needed nap.
This did not surprise me; after years of warnings that fell on deaf ears, harsh remarks, and side-eye glances.
Myself and the 300 did our best, but grew tired of cleaning up others' messes.
Patching daily holes, coming up with ways to make this dam stronger for the next generation.
Of course, it did not last, with many throwing stones and other sharp objects.
Breaking the mold.
Hate and violence — it simply could not hold.
So as the waters rushed into my home,
I simply let it take me under, closed my eyes for one last time.
Inwardly, I thanked the Lord with a smile.
Humans dream with infinite desire,
yet earth is bound in finite stone.
Scarcity reclaims what hope imagines,
and struggle rises to make it known.
Toughness builds a fleeting joy,
resilience sparks the fire of will.
But surrender waits at every corner,
a silent whisper, standing still.
Power is seized to bridge the gap
between longing and nature’s law.
Yet crowns dissolve in empty hands,
and truth of death is what we saw.
Life flickers — a fragile flame,
a gift once given, then reclaimed.
At times a blessing from the skies,
at times a chain that binds and drains.
And in this journey, I met a woman,
her presence carved into my fate.
But time was never on our side,
so love was left to hesitate.
Sometimes I curse the gods for this,
for burdens placed upon my breath.
Yet sometimes I thank them quietly
for beauty born inside of death.
Even gods in ancient texts
are swallowed by the mortal line.
For beauty lives in impermanence,
and love survives by what must die.
And still one life cannot contain
the endless weight of what we are…
Words calculate thoughts,
I tell myself.
Thoughts manipulate feelings,
I tell myself.
Feelings breed emotions,
I tell myself.
Emotions links to the heart,
I tell myself
but
where does my heart go?
I tell myself
why do I overthink?
I tell myself
do I overthink?
I tell myself
why am I sad?
I tell myself
am I happy?
I continue to tell myself
over and over again,
but why do I keep
telling myself
over and over again?
Every time we put ourselves last,
and we consider others first.
Life became the backburner
of this consuming cycle.
Sacrifice becomes meaningless,
because you are no longer living.
Sacrifice is not for the weak,
it's for the everlasting of those
who come after because
you surrender yourself.
I wonder if Jesus felt the same way?
I am not religious,
I am not honest,
I am not good,
I am not just,
I am just surviving the best way I can,
I tell myself.
How about you,
what do you tell yourself?
Jesus you are with me
I see all I need is to trust in You My God
Jesus you are with me always
I know you are God I know you are with me
Love guides me to never surrender
Holding onto you Jesus forever
All the dead are with me now
All the dead are alive now in Jesus Christ forever
the living might doubt all the dead have no doubts
Jesus I love you cause your my best friend from forever
I sing with you Lord Jesus in my heart every second
Just because I did not get my results does not mean Chuck norris and DMX did not intercede I know they did Jesus showed me they did
Just because I asked the dead mafia and dead prophets and apostles and mother marry and Jesus to intercede does not mean my prayers were not answered in fact I have faith they were answered and all are saved as He showed me I believe in my heart Jesus gave me true visions of eternity!!
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