spiritual warfare

Dark Night Rises #NaPoWriMo2017 #GloPoWriMo2017

Lies’ separation
Faintest prospects abandoned
False, dark night rises
A void enveloping hope
Collapsing minds from all sides

A time for heroes
In justice’s midnight hour
Truth shines guiding light
Dawn reveals the Morning Star
Which night attempts to disguise

I have no idea if this really addresses the Day 17 prompt from NaPoWriMo.net, which was to write a poetic equivalent to a nocturne – a musical composition meant to be played at night, usually for piano, and with a tender and melancholy sort of sound. Whether this contribution to Na/GloPoWriMo2017 is inspired more by faith, or storylines from the superhero genres, I’ll let you decide.Na/GloPoWriMo2017

Light Defeats Darkness

Faith Unlocked

Light defeats darkness –
But a flare in the night sky
Will still leave shadows

View original post

Ancient Superstition?

Insidious lie
Or superstitious nonsense?
Do not be deceived

written in response to today’s single word prompt at The Daily Post: “superstition”

‘Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.’
– 1 Peter 5:8 (ESV)

Battle Joined #NaPoWriMo2016


The sun stilled it’s arc
The moon held
Whilst battle commenced

Old Testament times
Blood shed by many

New Testament times
Blood shed by the One

Near eternity
Balanced books
All debts paid by Him

‘So the sun stood still,
and the moon stopped,
till the nation avenged itself on its enemies’
– Joshua 10:13

The first day of the NaPoWriMo challenge – to write in the style of a lune. This is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count (or stanzas following that pattern)


Warrior Poets

Leading the vanguard
Of the starving
And outnumbered
Charging the field
And fighting
Like warrior poets
With brave hearts
To show the people
Though the cost be high
The price is paid
And the freedom
They were made for
Has been won

I Will Build My Church

I will build My church,
Not of bricks, nor mortar;
I shall build on the Rock
Hewn by My own hand,
Fashioned by discipleship,
Refined by abrasion;
My Son shall be
The chief cornerstone,
The foundation and shelter;
My Spirit shall
Find the faithful workers,
And the gates of Hell
Shall never prevail.