Monday, March 30, 2015

I Stand

This might come as surprise to some of you, but sometimes I like to write poetry. And I totally know that in eight years I will kick myself for publishing any and all poetry. But for now it's kinda fun.

So yeah...  enjoy and don't laugh to hard.

I stand at the crossroads,
to weak to move forward
yet, to strong to go back
So... Instead I just stand.

The army is closing in.
I see them surrounding me
with knives at their sides
and death on their face.

I am weak. 
It hurts to breathe in. 
My legs are stuck to the ground
I am to weak to move forward.

But to go back? 
To let this evil army live? 
I can't do that either. 
My heart... My heart cries.

I am just a sheep.
I am so lost.
I am hopeless.
I am tired.

I can't do this.
I'm not a warrior! 
I'm so helpless...
But I am going to fight.

I say it out loud. 
I am going to fight. 
I am going to fight. 
And with that, the army closes in.

I am surrounded by death and fear. 
They are strong.
They are bold.
But I am going to fight.

They surround me. 
They push and they shove
and I fall to the ground 
too weak to stand.

I kneel on that ground
my hands over my face 
hot tears fall from my eyes
"I am going to fight" I whisper.

To weak to stand.
To weak to go forwards.
To weak to hold in my tears.
Just strong enough to kneel.

To kneel on that dirt 
With that the army is closing in.
"Help" I whisper as the army starts..
Starts to kick and tear at me.

And with that... I hear the pounding of hooves. 
I see a light shinning in the dark. 
I feel the ground shake with mighty roar
I know the victory will soon be won.

The army backs away.
Their darkness has no hope in this light.
The darkness has no reward.
It can not win.

I can hear the battle rage, 
As I kneel in the dirt. 
My cold tears water the dry dirt below me
Yet I sit there. Listening to the battle.

Then... All is silent. 
A tall man strides up. 
"Are you all right, my daughter?" 
He asks this tenderly.

I bury my head in my hands.
Unsure of what to say. 
Yet knowing I must say something. 
"I'm so weak sir..." I whisper.

With those words I lift my tear filled face. 
I see this strong warrior.
I see his clothes, they were once white
Now coated in blood.

I see the roads in front of me. 
No longer blocked by the armies.
The sun is shining down. 
I can now see.

He wipes the tears from my eyes 
"I am strong when you are weak."
The war has been won. 
You are now victorious."

"No sir," I stutter. 
"I am weak.
I fell to the ground.
I am hopeless and lost." 

"I was watching you child." He says kindly. 
"I have seen you walk forward 
I have seen you fight.
And I saw where you fell." 

"It was when you fell that I knew I could step in.
Had I let you fight, you would have lost. 
But I won the war for you." 
And with that he stood.

He stood and lifted me. 
He lifted me and carried me. 
Carried me in the uneven ground. 
He carries me through the fire and the floods.

He has been carrying me. 
I no longer have to fear. 
I am now rescued.
I have my King by my side.

When the battle rages on,
He will be with me.
when I am weak,
He will be strong. 
With my King by my side.

Let me know if I should do more, or if I should leave poetry alone for the rest of ever... but I do hope you all enjoyed it! Have an awesome week everyone!

Rachel Joy

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