Standing Before My Face

“I breathe by the wound for the air is stale,

The heats sweat hasn’t been so sweet.

There is no room for anymore tears,

All ground is covered by past errs.

His mercy seems remote as I am teared by these vicious aches.

I toss and turn

positioning myself for another retreat.

I come forth to the temple

where silent affliction is heard.

I bow my head once more

and sought for the Hearts of hearts

For my hope was hopeless

And my faith faithless

without the color of peace

and the shape of insight.

As I die

I  find the meaning of Love

Standing before my face 

Painting my soul

with the brilliance of mercy.

Graced I stand again

and loved more deeper I sing much harder.”

– Mhlanga Sikhosana 

Image – Unsplash / Over App

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