Little by little, second after second, day after day I feel the sap being sucked out of my being Minutes after seconds a little bit of me melts away Every now and then I get ripped A part of me dies once in a while
Everytime I fall, the rise gets harder and more strenuous As time drags by I lose myself a little bit more From every fail I lose a bit more heart After every turn on this everlasting road my blood cuts down Every nightfall my body grows darker and scary
It’s been a long time coming and the end just began I can clearly see the darkness at the end of this dim-lit road The gradually developing downfall has quickened to a plummeting speedy drop The cycle completes itself really quick these days The loss and shed I readily await and go through silently
I’m saying that I drain faster nowadays I wither more quickly and also blossom equally fast I see clearly where there’s just blur and don’t complain much I do not wish for change and when it comes I adapt real quick I also grow weaker every nightfall and get strengthened every dawn
I get confused easily and confuse even more often I rarely cry but laughter is just as scarce- maybe it’s because I don’t know when to do either I want to reach out and be reached out to, but I still don’t want to leave my bursted bubble I love the idea of going to sleep but strain to do so I resent waking up and also strain to do so
…….it never stops the fight goes on infinitely we’ve become a thing, the fight and we
The fight and we are an inseparable duo now a toxic one, wanting to part but not wanting to we go for the fight, the fight comes to us
All this tale- ing , this play with words this struggle to get out of our being and what it entails the unending desire to change what is
This is what I’m trying to express here #thisislife meaning that the chaos, fights, imbalance, and all that pertains of this world is what makes life life
I guess all I’m saying is that life is such a chore coz clearly it’s a daily chore
And you know something about daily chores, they are there for those that awake in the morning they have the chore awaiting
Oh, something else about chores, you chose how to do them some are perfectionists, others average, others just poor at it and others do the chore just for the sake, Coz it’s there and they got to do it
But still, a chore that needs doing Does this coincide with your understanding of life??
When my unrighteousness brings me to my knees, When my unfathomable deeds bring me to tears, When a single word from the Lord wrecks me, When His comfort touches me, I do see the fog being lifted from my eyes And behold the glistening, glowing, magically shining rays of His love swell up in my heart.
At 15 I said no. I was definitely not ready At 17 I still said no. My parents didn’t entertain it at all. At 18 I tried saying no , but well, I guess I didnt make it strong enough because I slightly missed the step. But at 19 I said no. Because I was beginning to see an unpleasant pattern. In the 20s tricky as it can be, I stood by a no. Well, a flimsy one at some point maybe. And believe me I paid preciously when it didn’t work. The resolve to keep it no grew stronger then. I didn’t realize I was shutting the door slowly. At 23 hope was fading away. After 25 all hope was far at the horizon sinking into a sunset. At 28 the sun never came up again and if it did I didn’t quite make it out.Maybe the clouds were really thick about it. This is because my society took my ways out of context. It judged me when I couldn’t believe in their expectations about relationships. Natural they called it. Due to devastation, I gave in and tried it their way. But remember hope was lost and what remained where a door once existed was only a window. Sadly, I lost it. What I wanted I didn’t get. So I broke it off. And again I paid for it. A precious price of my time, resources and the greater one of all, emotionally. After the drainage, I couldn’t dare hope again. The tiny window was now so frosted coz of the cold Judgment I couldn’t even see me.Trust in love was blown off with no indication of ever resurfacing. At 30 you can guess it is no different. I’ve long given up on expecting a change. Should anyone expect a change from me either?
The very reason for my existence turning into a boring, weary and burdensome activity is saddening. So simply put because the magnitude of what it means cannot be fitted into words, at least none that I have come across so far. But what do I say of myself, when worship holds no sentiment on me? When worship doesn’t prostrate me and drop me down in reverence? When worship won’t drive me to deny myself a single pleasure? When worship does nothing to scrub off the layer of filth in my heart? When I cannot feel the commitment to live up to my purpose, I wonder what He thinks of me. Does He ever question his love for me? I Am made to believe He doesn’t and never will. But well, He definitely has questions for me. He’s asked them in Malachi and Isaiah. Why won’t I see His love? Why do I give forth wild grapes when He’s expecting good grapes? I don’t have answers too. Sad. And humbling, you know. Because I know who has them. He does. That’s why He asks the questions. So I can listen for the answers too. And then He says that He is the way, truth and life. Simple huh! That Jesus Christ is the sole example and true master of Worship and the only way I get to the Father is through Him. And then I purpose to find Him and follow His example before I can’t anymore.