WHEN I HEARD THE WORDS ” HATE THE SIN & NOT THE SINNER”

WHEN I HEARD THE WORDS ” HATE THE SIN & NOT THE SINNER”

The title became somewhat more of a sermon to me & this was one reason I wrote the poem, it one time had effects on me as a person(sinner). Sin truly is a purgatory, we are forgiven only when the police of our heart(conscience) is safe, clean & sane.

We all have sinned,
the cloud bears witness
to every movement made on the earth,
you hung an amulet on your neck,
somewhat like a meter to help
read your safety,
& under your pillows is a torn Bible
& a hymn book opened only on Sundays.
a sinful mind only knows guilt like renting the curtains of the heart into halves.

the conscience is the police
stationed at every doorpost,
now stripped off its position,
you fall & count every step taken
even when your limbs don’t obey
the fiats of it bones & marrows.
you realized other people doesn’t
mirror your character.
at a motor park, a little boy is a pick picket, caught. you rushed
& burnt him, as he goes with the sun.
I’ll blame God for sending His grace
to both sinners & righteous?

Sin is a purgatory,
we await the atonement of
every bloodshed with the mouth,
hands, heart, eyes.
our thoughts at times are sharper than two-edged swords
& sins are freedom with shackles
& when the conscience like a watchman said No, you hide underneath the bed,
another flag flagged high in no condemnation & freight.
a condemned heart rips off. Righteousness is no longer available, Is replaced by guilts.
I’ll blame God for sending His grace
to both sinners & righteous?

Content Protection by DMCA.com
Need a Book Review
Total
19
Shares
1 comment
Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Article
MY FATHER WORE GRIEF AS A GARMENT, BY Apostle John Chinaka Onyeche

MY FATHER WORE GRIEF AS A GARMENT

Next Article
My Dependency, a poem by Yahuza Abdulkadir

MY DEPENDENCY, A POEM BY YAHUZA ABDULKADIR

Related Posts
NATURAL LANGUAGE, Maiduguri
Read More

NATURAL LANGUAGE

The poem expresses the affection I had for Maiduguri, a place where I was brought up. But I miss it now due to the calamity that befalls the land.
Read More

BEING A NIGERIAN

To be a Nigerian is to be born without your voice being heard, you tie your voice with your fear and hide it in your belly. You die with your eyes open and with your life threatened.
Spoken word poet? Upload your piece on Poemify!
Click Here
Are you an avid reader? We have a beautiful collection of books in our bookstore just for you.
Take Me There
Total
18
Share