The Battle In Our Hearts

Refugees of hope we are.
here come we to thee for comfort
prisoners of wisdom, banish from folly.
women and children,
men and boys,
old and young,
Queued at your temple midnight,
mumbling like Hannah, we made our request known
when disappointment encroached our homes,
spreading to our beds in the chamber.
we escaped swimming in our tears
till we finally got here in You House.

must Royals plead unheeded,
when this storm scared us out of our dens?
Destiny is still calling from across the rivers.
we came to respond in Your Temple.
"Aba father"
refugees of hope in Your presence.
Your sons and daughters;
the heirs of Your throne originally.
we wailed al'night feeling queasy.
speaking to the wind in tears,
gazing the sky and calling on all stars
in desperation
with our hands lifted up,
we surround under Your shadow.

we are not satisfied with food and clothing,
mansions and cars.
here come we with strained ears,
for the still small voice
that will titillate our timpanic memory

heavy hearted we approached thee
with BURDENS hearvier for words
only in groaning we did speak.
refugees of hope, the cross our real hope.
though our bones are in our mouths,
our hearts wounded,
even our lungs bleeding like a slaughtered deer
though our bones broken
our knees slacked for long walks.
though our sight blurred by tears,
we faint not!
though our heads bow to shame,
we refuse to concede defeat.
we shall be there at last
to see the regal sun shine.
this is the hope that imprisoned us.

we will speak in the languages of heaven and earth
tongues of men and angels.
till our sweet deepens our thoughts and lightens our minds.
though i heard the race is not to the swift,
yet shall we wake from our long slumber
and battle our dreams to a reality.
the dreams of possessing our possessions,
that has long been encroached.
we shall see the sun at peak of mount Zion

if we faint not!

our chains shall fall off and our tears dry.
then the martyrs, at the smiling of the regal sun
say; welcome home brethren!
it has been bloody, but it's worth it
your scares tell they story.
the storm shall really be over!!
this is the reason we came to Your Temple
"Aba father"

this is the battle in our hearts and it's hope
of victory imprisoned us

By Andrew Gmayeuwombor Nkrabeah
you can email the poet at [email protected]
call: +23366689362

fb; andrews destiny (elijah)

Author: Andrew Gmayeuwombor Nkrabeah

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