Poetry

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We're living on borrowed time, hanging on a thin line, watching as the hour-glass cracks, living as undefined outcasts. No one knows the way the wind will blow, swinging blind to the curve balls life will throw. We all have a road to walk, whether light or dark, crooked or straight; at the end, when the thin line breaks we'll meet our fate. We will all be accountable for what we've done; the right and the wrong. Will we be acceptable to God? We all sin and fall short of the glory, we're treated much better than we deserve, receiving grace even though we have a sin filled story. We are all part of one body, the bride of Christ; only through our faith in Him we'll receive eternal life. Christ was the sacrifice, the bridge filled with redemption blood, the crimson road leading to God. Instead of standing in unity, signing one decleration to being free; we each go our own way, following our own beliefs; becoming murderers and thieves, turning our backs on the Prince of Peace. Some of us become slaves to our own fears, drowning in our own tears, foolishly turning to hollow desires, seeking heat from burned out fires. Others sell their souls to a secret society, being deprived of a life towards eternity. We make excuses : "we are only human", in the mean time we watch our lives fall to ruin. We are blinded by our own lies, our own illusions. There is no excuse, no reason to be abused by a misused truth. Whether we are Gentiles or Jews, we must choose: be bound by the chains of damnation, be the target of an evil predation or be set free from captivity, rise in victory from slavery and once more stand in unity. So if you see yourself as children of God, rise above your pitiful nature, feeling sorry for yourself. You are a miracle in itself. You were born for victory. You were made to be free, meant to live with honour and walk in God's glory.

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