Live.

God did not give you

a sword to chip at

your insecurities

or a shield

to bury yourself in comfort.

You are a man

a woman

with fire in your blood

What you touch turns to purpose

You are composed of Divine scaffolding

A rose blooming through snowfall.

 

Nothing kills me more,

to see a young face,

aged with the wrinkles of apathy

Take what numbs you and bury

your sword into it

Take what seeks to cling to you

and deflect it with your shield.

-nJb