Silomasays-Poetry-Template

His Blood My Atonement

My steps are ordered
And my trouble powdered
My feet are on this rock
The same that I mocked
My eyes are gazed on this way
The same he carried my ill
As I chanted with my fig
And spat on his knee
Unable to carry His cross
Was it His cross?

Many a times I thought He carried His own burden
Forgetting that I was weary and heavy laden
With sin that blinded and made me mean
That I thought my life revolved around me
And He came to intrude my space
By abolishing the law and bringing His own

What then do I say
When all I need to pray
To Him who does amazingly, abundantly
And above all?

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Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

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About Author

Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

Follow me on Twitter

About Author

Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

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