The heart is a wild beast in all of its temperament.
Demons sprawl around it, but I am vigilant in letting them in.
In God’s kingdom, I imagine that peasants can win…
Still.
So as I imagine what the kingdom is like, I face what is real…
I feel chills, as my heart is heavy in its wild pursuits.
No mild pursuits in;
It aspires for greatness in whatever it chooses.
I think to myself that I can do this;
I refuse to lose in –
The crafts that feel eternal to death.
I feel the devils breath, when I write in moments of when I reflect.
His spirit is deaf; and I am loud as God’s steps…
Walking with Christ in this journey of depth.
At times I feel like a mess; but I will recover with steps.
Refusals — to succumb.
Reprisals — As My journey is undone.
Revival— As my spirit will have won.
Rivals, the enemy is done.
