So here i sit,
On a hostel bed carelessly maltreated by its customers
As my thoughts begin to get obsessed with the idea
The idea of church, religious leaders, doctrines
And the infinite list of conditions mailed out by modern day pastors for heavenly citizenship
So this is the new world
Where streets are littered with an influx of altars
Which alter the divine plan and make heaven an almost Mission Impossible
Salvation seems an imaginary status unattainable
Capable of being bought not gotten
Church rows made for bookings like music concerts because it’s strictly VIP— no regular
Souls have been fed with paralyzed truth for too long
So here lies the potency of my message
I’m a lost soul
My own actions suffocate me
But then I underservingly find my bearing in the compass of mercy
The world is barren of the truth
We are yet to find love
Love shown by Christ is yet to be replicated
Discernment of good and bad is baseless if the L in your chest is still hidden
The caskets of our tongues bury souls too quickly without giving them tie to prepare for their funeral
Am I to condemn the LGBT like I am flawless
Or am I to lend a helping hand which might be their first step to change
So leaders, be sure not to dot when Christ curves
Love was the doctrine left behind
So when you fill your order of service with a how-to-do manual
Casting on yourself thorns of omnipotence
Heaven is attainable for all
And until He rolls out the drum
Then the door for mercy lays still wide open
By POETIC (Ofem Ubi)
