Ujamaa Christian Poetry
Taking hold this part of me
Getting ready; Knive's edge-honed
No longer tears of joy; Replaced!
With welling tidal waves of guilt
Uncontrollable salting, fills thy thirst
"What have I done ... O' Why?"
Such a tender loving "kid"
Now detained; with such - Cold, cold nervous strain,
My fumbling fingers grip ... Warm this breath of life
"How near unbearable ...O' What, what have I done?"
"Be patient now, my little friend
Soon a better place-awaits your end
Please understand, that it breaks my heart
Forgive this fool" ... "For what's to be done!"
"See, I've put you in this bind
Yet the edge is "razored" sharp-fine" ...
Hope is my aim; So be it true,
a sure peaceful sleep, God sends you to
But I; To stay awake in time
Then to Abraham, will I meet?
Yet; truth be known of this:
If I don't "feel" your blood
Soaking deep the altar's floor
Of Him, I'll never greet
Written by Robert R. Macmillan
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