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Pain comes to claim my heart.
The needle or the pen, The choice is before me again Pain comes to claim my heart. The needle or the pen? Will I write to claim the pain Or will I let drugs have free reign? The needle or the pen? Will I write to claim the pain? Pour out memories that taunt Till they no longer haunt, Will I write to claim the pain? Pour out memories that taunt Aloud on paper white Or seek poison to silence the fight? Pour out memories that taunt. Aloud on paper white Ugly letters scrawled in black ink Create a space for me to think. Aloud on paper white. Ugly letters scrawled in black ink Pain comes to claim my heart Memories now written still rip my life apart Ugly letters scrawled in black ink Pain comes to claim my heart. The needle or the pen, The choice is before me again Pain comes to claim my heart.
My attempt at the form Catena Rondo, as introduced at Poetic Bloomings.
Track marks tell a story
she wishes they didn’t tell about a girl who faltered as to smack she fell when her heart was bleeding, bruised by evil men His scars tell a story she grieves that they tell about the Innocent who died as to evil men he fell when His heart stopped beating, thrashed and hung upon a cross. His grave tells a story she rejoices that it tells about a dead Man raised to overcome her hell when His tomb was empty, defeated death and evil men. Her life tells a story she humbly does share about a drug addict rescued by the King’s gentle care when He silenced accusations, made a new creation. Her scars tell a story she’s no longer shamed to tell Bout a Savior who renamed her made her sick heart well, when he freed from heroin’s call healed harm done by evil men.
Stained glass people fill the pew
wondering if they are really new Bright joyful smiles on the outside Hearts shattered pieces inside Hiding from judgmental view Oh, if the broken but knew all the pieces now askew by the Savior are priceless fired, His Masterpieces love-inspired windows we see God's mercy through. Broken shards forged to form a view of mercy, grace, and the Word True His glory, your good His desire Shines bright from the heavenly fire God's love through Christ makes you new.
Gentle breeze breathes a sigh,
rustling leaves in passing by. Eagles quiet glide on high spying prey from the sky. Lazy river sings its song, hitting rocks that don’t belong. Swing groans in rhythmic beat as feet make it sway, retreat. Soul surrenders to perfect peace as to the Creator fears release.
Written in response to Poetic Bloomings Prompt #243: Motivation – Tranquility
Tapestry of beauty spun
not from yarn but from above. A masterpiece in the making by the Craftsman ever dreaming on life's loom masterfully weaving Threads of mercy yarns of love bits of grace in time reveal a sin-stained soul in Christ made whole.
Battle-weary soul come win in Me.
I vanquish your enemy Give you victory Set you free. RUN! Sin-weary soul, run quickly to Me! I am your one blood-soaked plea Give you victory Set you free. DONE! Joyless heart, come be undone by Me! I am Light and clarity Give you victory Set you free WON!