‘Count your blessings.’

The words of the preacher man,

Pierced my heart.

Let gratitude be your attitude.

And your servitude to God and man,

Will ascertain you altitude.

But I was lost in the fields.

In the fields of destruction,

I roam.

At 18,

I was certain.

At least that was what I thought.

I was right in my own eyes ,

And so disregarded the advice of the wise.

Who are we that he cares?

People in darkness.

To us who are lost,

A great light now guides us on our way.

Full of splendor.

So great His honour.

He took away my transgression.

Rescued me from oppression,

From the bondage of sin,

And brought me into His scene.

He is my strong deliverer.

My fortress,

Reliever of my stress.

He took my weakness,

And placed my limits only in Him.

He took the pressure,

And placed  my pleasure only in Him.

Worthy of my Praise.

Cos from darkness,

He raise me up.

He has given me victory,

Over the adversary.

Unravel His mysteries.

His excess Love,

And the essence of His Grace.

Harvest is due,

But the harvesters are few.

I know you are depressed.

But ought to persist to resist.

Time is of essence.

Never give up the fight.

Cos you are precious in His sight.

At last, an opportunity.

Come out of this society,

So filthy,

Full of carnality.

And where there is unity-

Of humanity and divinity,

There is life in eternity.

The nation under oppression,

Has gone through a transition.

No longer under depression.

His Grace,

We embrace.

Why do you still swim in lust?

Don’t you know , the things of this world doesn’t last.

The authenticity of His Love,

The propensity to adore,

The aptness of His mercy.

He is my everything.

The Lord, God of Hosts.


El Shaddai.

I stand today and say,

I’m His own.

So are you and everyone in the world.  


This poem is about: 
Our world


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