Home Read What's New Join
My Account Login

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge



how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level


submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners

Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.



how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Soul (07/13/06)

TITLE: The Traveler
By Purity Snowe


I woke timid in the darkness
Room constricted in the starkness
Of an eerie autumn midnight
Like I’d never seen before.
Restless, scared, I had awaken
Out of breath and spirit shaken
As the screen of my computer
Flickered faintly by the door.

“Just a dream.” I softly muttered
As my heart so soundly fluttered
While my reason chased the specters
Persevering in my mind
Then a sound, an incarnation
Of an image I had shaken
Pricked the solitude of shadows
Twisting every nerve in kind.

I jumped up, afraid and craven
“It’s a mouse, a rat, a raven.”
But my words of reassurance
Made no impact on myself.
In the paltry light a vestige
Of a curtly worded message
From beyond my comprehension
On my screen the statement “Help.”

“What is this?” I asked believing
That a remnant or a leaving
Of an earlier conversation
Messaged to a friend of mine
Had returned again to shame me
O’re the death of dearest Jamie
Who, caught in a deep depression,
Left this earth while in her prime.

Soft a movement in the dimness,
A chilled whisper causing gooseflesh,
In my fractured recollections
I’d turned off the screen before.
Eyes peeled wide in fear and wonder
As my pulse swelled into thunder
I stepped through a deep foreboding
And rebooted it once more.

In the murk a restless whirring
Like a furtive soul was stirring.
As if some departed traveler
Sought their way out through the air.
Crept a carnivorous feeling
Something watching from the ceiling
And I stumbled to the mattress
Choking, “Jamie? Are you there?”

Pulled by death she had been falling
While the blessed discussed our calling
And we contemplated charters
For an outreach to the poor.
But our righteous work was dreary
And my vision had grown bleary.
So she shot herself on Wednesday
Waiting near my bolted door.

In the deep, my mind resurgent,
Realized it wasn’t urgent
To address imagined spirits
Wand’ring through immortal pain.
In my bed I pulled the covers
Quoted prayers as doubts were smothered
‘Till a static charged resurgence
Nearly froze my blood again.

By the door the screen was clashing
Just one word it screamed in flashing.
And I cried, “You evil messenger!”
My words clipped in a yelp.
“Is there nothing I can do to
Disavow this curse sent through you?”
But the screen just sat there silent
With the message reading “Help.”

“I’m a fool.” I wept deriding,
To the screen I was confiding,
“There’s no doubt this recitation
Is divinely for myself.
Word of God, for me, all mine,
Please allow me just a sign
Of how I may more fulfill you!”
But the screen repeated, “Help.”

I cried out, my heart betrayed me,
“Father God or dearest Jamie!
I know not which one of you this
Soulful lecture freely gives.
But I swear with deep conviction
That I’ve deeply learned the lesson.
So I’ll take this vast instruction
And apply it as I live!”

From the fading light a drying
Of the tears I had been crying
As a movement pushed the Bible
I had lost upon my shelf.
And with lifted voice I cited
That one word that I delighted
Taking to my congregation
The prophetic message, “Help.”

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.

This article has been read 1146 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Kevin Kindrick07/20/06
A soul-touching poem, with a heart-rending message. Well done - and to I detect an allusion to the poet/author Edgar Allen Poe?
Well done, and God bless,

Suzanne R07/22/06
So sad..... So full of meaning ..... So extremely well written.
Edy T Johnson 07/22/06
My favorite lines:
"Pulled by death she had been falling
While the blessed discussed our calling
And we contemplated charters
For an outreach to the poor.
But our righteous work was dreary
And my vision had grown bleary.
So she shot herself on Wednesday
Waiting near my bolted door."

These Poesque rhythms and goblins certainly ferry the message we are meant to grasp. I think this must be the work of one of my future Poet Laureates :)
Rita Garcia07/24/06
Touching! Brilliant writing!
Jan Ackerson 07/24/06
What do you mean, it didn't work? This is INCREDIBLE.
Jan Ross07/24/06
All I can say that if this "didn't work" then none of us have any hope! This is incredible -- don't be so hard on yourself. You're a gifted writer! Awesome! :)
Lynda Lee Schab 07/25/06
A touch of eerie...a hint of darkness...a ton of great!
Excellent and well-crafted. There were a couple of spots that didn't flow for me but that did not detract from the poem at all. Simply superb!
Brenda Craig07/25/06
Marvelous, Stupendous, and all the other adjectives. Wow! I loved this. And like the others stated, in my own words, "you gotta be kiddin" Not very good or however you said it. Wonderful! Blessings Brenda
Dr. Sharon Schuetz07/25/06
Beautiful job. I'd like to see what you do when you feel like it does work.
Venice Kichura07/25/06
WOW!! This is incredible!
Trina Courtenay07/26/06
Such a God given talent! You are to hard on yourself. As always I enjoyed your entry.

May Our Heavenly Father continue to guide your quill as you write to glorify HIM!
Shari Armstrong 07/26/06
Well written, but not sure I like the message possibly coming from the dead friend -but that's guilt talking, more than theology of the main character. But it's still powerful stuff.
Marilyn Schnepp 07/27/06
"What do you mean it didn't work?" - I searched and searched for a commenter that said the above words... and came up empty. So, I assume this was a "private comment" made between PM's and Emails; but I tend to agree with the commenter (S.A.)who mentioned that the "dead can not or do not speak"; but the writing is expressive for that type of poetry. Thank you.
janet rubin07/27/06
Hi Purity, Remember me? I think I recall telling you that you'd be in Master's soon back when you were in beginner's. Some good advice: You are good. Accept it. Don't get all head-swelled about it, but accept it and keep writing. Don't waste your time picking on yourself. You are going places kid.