A poem that heals
Abiola Inioluwa@inioluwaabiola092016
1 month ago
When God's Silence Becomes Too Loud
As a little boy, mama told me that life is like a village of thriving gloom, and in it is a market of confused chaos
Where humans sell their silky dreams for destinies they never bargained for,
She said that life is a school of misery, where men are taught to abandon their dreams and forget how to survive,
She said, life will wear you shame like a trophy of defeat, and when you look deep in the eyes of your once impressive future, all you will see is emptiness calling out for you
Mama wasn't wrong
I am a boy of many lousy darkness, I have spat on God's invincible face, I wrote on the sailing wind, a comprehensive poem of mockery and asked that it be sent to the uncreated One
I was once a paradise, I am now a wilderness of waste, suffocating every glow, till barrenness becomes their lot, but back in the days, I used to be an Eden.
My future is a sick woman who learns in loneliness, how to kiss the world goodbye, till death comes to console her into the stinking mouth of a troubled oblivion.
Crime was my own boss, we call it our godfather, every tattered morning, it taught us to sit beneath the sad skies to sip helplessness from death's cup and dance to disturbed beats that only existed in our minds
We were trained to steal from men's protruding pockets, our craft is like an erecting penis that rapes every pregnant bank accounts, leaving them to bleed till all that's left of them are silhouettes of emptiness
I am a disciple of madness in a world where sanity is a mirage.
Every broken night, I see a congregation of damaged dreamers, gather at the balcony of my soul, to bow down and worship their own misery and sit to lament what is left of their lives - shattered into many pieces of nothingness.
Like a lost smoke, that's forgotten how to find its way back to the fires,
I wore trauma on the neck of my every sigh, I was helpless, flaunting riches, but feeding on what was left of my own ruin
But God never leaves, he was with me all along, he assembled a rescue team and fetched me out of an assembly of darkness, all with his basket of mercy
As he states in his word, "I will never leave, nor forsake you, so that you may boldly say, the Lord is my helper:
Yes - the Lord helped me, washed me, pulled down the raging wall built around my fainting thoughts, I found peace
He fought many battles, took down many bragging shadows; he took bruises, bled, died my death, rose from the ash, and crushed the spine of death; he openly declared, "he is delivered, totally free."
See, God never leaves, he never says goodbye, he will run through many Jericho mountains just to be by your side, he's the fourth man in the fires, and when darkness brags around you, God is the sun that slays the dark; when fear tries to run through you like the sea runs over disabled sands, God becomes the giant wall that shields you from everything that's meant to destroy you
You may be damaged, but you're not beyond repair
For our God is able to refresh, restore, repair and make you as good as new. Amen.
