the

is it wrong to carry on if

the only thing i’m carrying is

the weight of fear, intrepid curiosity for evil, double skinned faces, embarrassment

? the world says it’s ok

? the heart says it’s not, because

the echo of a song now broken is agonizing.

the folly of mankind amuses us all,

the want to impress, the need for acceptance, the constant push for equality

the equally incessant failure to accomplish such. we wear

the color of greed.

until we realize we truly are inconsequential in

the grand scheme of things; like

the word the, we don’t amount to much.

? the world says it’s ok, but we know it’s not;

the greed for greed lies to us.

the thistle song

i am a thistle, growing forth from the dry, hard ground.
i am alone, even the weeds crawl away from my cracked boundaries.
i am unloved, my roots are crying for water, my thorns are begging for rain-
i am fading, my flower will burn tonight, my leaves will dry tomorrow.

my spirit is torn, broken from the harsh heat
crushed by the scorching sun.
i know i am dying-i feel it-
but death? isn't that nothing more than an
impending footstep?

i weep for the beauty i lack, the beauty i never had
and the beauty i never will have.
i cry for the love that should have been mine,
for the friends that should have stayed, for those who left.

but does He love me? the creator who crafted my thorns
who colored my flower, who moulded my roots.
am i too ugly for Him too?
does He look upon this awkward flower and say
"you are beautiful, be glad for thou art mine"?

rejoice my heart; be thou glad again!
laugh amidst the hardened sand and dry winds;
pour forth with joy thou weakened spirit, live!
weep with joy for the opportunity of tomorrows
sing, oh sing, for His love never fails.

and echo His praises till your last unworthy breath.
because i am a thistle, i am not worthy,
i am a fading flower, a dying grass,
but i rejoice because i was loved-
and that made my life worth it all.

~
sorry for the long silence. i have been thinking about life and disappointments recently, and college applications and visits have also been pretty tiring. but, i'm glad to be back in this space.

God's been good.

gap between worlds

there's a gap between our worlds,
a rupture in our souls,
a solemn promise--broken
by the great and mighty foe.

there's a crack running down the wall,
it doesn't hurt--we never cry.
[or do we?]

there's a scar beneath the skin,
we never see it hidden underneath.
a wound [it's painful]

but there's a song that won't be broken,
does it close the gap, we ask?
the harmony of the universe...

[let me tell you darling. hold on.]

the light will be flooding in soon
right after dusk.

wreckage restored

i am no writer.

my words are lost in the untrodden land and uncharted sea,
my ink is dried from the fear of dipping into mystery and from the heat of the curious flame.
my mouth is parched from the dry barren ground, from the sandy wind of the wasteland.
my feet pace the floor furnished with sharp needles and electrifying currents.

i am no beauty.

my body shivers from the cold winter draft blowing from the old ruined neighbourhood,
my eyes are swollen from sleepless nights and silent weeping.
my laughter has broken like the shattered glass scattered on the cold marble floor,
like a shredded song tossed to the wind and carried into the unexplored darkness.

i am no writer. 

i am no beauty.

but He takes these fractured wreckage and holds it in His hands.
there is no beauty in the ashes, there is no lure, no charm.
i am nothing yet He chooses me.

He takes these unspoken words, the long-gone ink and showers them in the stream of love,
He kisses these wounded feet and heals the arid lips.
He wraps the trembling bones and gives beauty to the hideous eyes.
and there is laughter in His presence, there is joy, and happiness.

i am no writer. i am no beauty.

but He is all I need. 

midweek thoughts

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I sit in the middle of a crowded food market. The air conditioner seems to have broken down because all I feel is the warmth and humidity of this country. I hear the chatter of people all around. Gossiping, laughing, debating. I hear music playing with a lady's voice singing painfully about love (breaking up what??) And the smell of freshly fried fries plus the warm whiff of a burger. (ps: just glanced up at a box of donuts. no, I am not jealous). 

Everybody is so busy with life. Catching up with the newspapers, head buried in their study papers, or just talking and laughing with a mouth full of nuggets. And I think about how, how fleeting, life is. Because life is just about doing the next routine. Meet up with friends, study, eat, read current events, workout (or not), and you just keep repeating the chores and daily hum of life.

But after doing the same things for fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty years, you just die. That is the crude truth, without a sugar coat or pretty packaging. You will die-and there’s no escaping it. 

And maybe it’s painful to believe that after you die you cease to exist, or if you have no idea what happens after death. Because that means that whatever you do on this world is for nothing. 

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Then heaven happens. Heaven happens for those who had chosen Him. Because heaven is probably the sweetest most magical thing ever. Not because of the gold streets, or because of the magical choruses. No. Because you get to see Him. God's good. Heaven's real. 

And maybe it's a wonderful thing that we can't escape Death. Or in Dunbar's words:

"I greet the dawn and not a setting sun, When all is done."

magic

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His eyes holds the beauty and mystery of the universe,

His smile enraptures the feeling of joy and heavenly bliss,

His calloused hands tells the story of hard work and toil,

And his voice - oh, his voice - is filled with so much honesty, beauty, and magic that even the world itself can not contain.

two roads

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost-

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Today, I'm confronted with two big decisions. You see, something happened recently which totally messed up my life. God decided to turn the tables and clean up my filthy heart, and oh man, is it dirty and cluttered in here. I'm not sure how it happened, but something someone said some time ago really hit hard. Because this someone revealed to me my pride, my evil, my filth, and my ungratefulness.

Oh boy, it was hard accepting whatever she said. I mulled over the words, but the more I thought about it, the more infuriated I became. Who was she to judge me? Who was she to tell me how I'm horrible or not good enough? And then the dust and the dirt slowly built up in my heart, blocking away any good or any light that I had.

via

It collected-the dust did-over a couple of days, or a few weeks, or maybe even months. It was so quiet though, because cleaning up makes noise, but when dirt collects, it comes in subtly and silently. And then today, it was as if God said "That's enough." And when God says that, you're not talking about a one hour devotion or a five minutes prayer to clean up the dirt, you're talking about weeks, months of spring cleaning. 

So today. Two doors, two roads, two decisions face me. One of the roads looks trodden and popular, because that is the door that says "EASY WAY." The way that makes me a god, a master, and allows me to do all the evil I want to do. The other road looks "less traveled by." Because the road is rocky, the path is narrow, and the sun beats down uncomfortably upon the path, without any tree to shade a traveller. 

And I'm scared. I feel like screaming, like crying out for anyone to hear me. Because I can no longer see myself, all I see is dirt and filth. It's painful, as if I lost my own identity and my own soul.

“In the day when I cried out, You answered me, and made me bold with strength in my soul.” 

-Psalm 138:3-

The only thing I find myself doing now is clinging onto His promises. Because with my own strength, I am nothing, but with His strength, wow. Just WOW. It's amazing what He can do through such a sinner. 

So there are two roads. I am going to take a deep breath, stretch out my already sore limbs, reach in and hold onto His promises like I'm hanging for my life, and take the one less traveled by. 

Because I think that will make all the difference.