"The measure of my many mishaps, was in correlation to the magnitude of my mission and my message." Chioma Onwudiwe
"Alas, I have found that the obstacles of my past were instruments of preparation for my present and my future." Chioma Onwudiwe
O sovereign One, Permit me to sing my gratitude to You. Let my indebtedness resonate, in an indomitable timbre. A tone that cannot be squashed, by covens of perishable souls. Nor can it be squelched, by deceptive and discriminating ploys. As I elevate my mind, to sacred heights. My tongue is loosed, into a thousand keynotes. Each theme, bearing the crux of appreciation. Melodies of victories won, echoes of promises kept and the inconspicuous presence of protective walls.
Strains voicing a veneration, that releases the bejeweled clasps on Your golden gate. Yet I must not stop here, Oh gracious and great King. For though I have come, burdened with petitions and a salient plea for justice. It is Your glory, that distracts and awes me. A disarming and deflating magnificence, that even the most adorned and celebrated in my planet. Will definitely pale and eventually fall hopelessly and deeply short, in the light of Your glory.
Thou eminent and exalted One, your indescribable beauty blinds me. Exposing the deficiency of my mortality and rendering fleshly adulation impotent. Alas, humanity must re-evaluate a botched system. Instituted by a fallen and disgruntled former employee. Whose grievous light, now glows with defiant darkness. Whose frequent and pallid attempts, at recreating and/or duplicating your masterpiece. Will often rise and plummet, with pitiable and laughable failure.
An anti-body, that modifies a caricature rendition of genius. Attributing an unexplained phenom like me, to a random and dishonorable eruption. Desiring to duplicate and then discard my very essence. Such impudence boasts of a humongous proportion of effrontery, on cringe-worthy levels. How I shudder, at such progressive regression. Sovereign and incontestable Potentate, as I approach the threshold of Your ruling courts. The very crest of Your abode, the most hallowed place and the district of Your throne. I may now present, my entreat....
"I died a thousand deaths, to live one life. Please do not mess with me." Chioma Onwudiwe
I implore Thee, gracious and mighty Judge. Behold, I report a jaundiced and conspiratory plot. An unscrupulous scheme of sorts, a clandestine gathering of gnomes. Pushing their mind numbing and self-gratifying agenda. An anti-sacrilegious movement, that scrambles to shamelessly re-write it’s loathsome creed. Where it once boasted of it’s ‘bad’ abilities, informing the mis-informed. The fact that ‘bad’ was cool and in. It now clambers for light fixtures and divine accolades, without of course the actual deed. It will hug an unlit pedestal and then endeavor, to steal a godly one.
Thou unapproachable light and consuming Flame. I know that You see Devilus scampering around in diligent and diabolic deals. Orchestrating an impending doom, that he and his cohorts must carry. A head inflated in unquantified assurance, of influence and power. Like a remote, he steers the insides of the unruly and unknowing. Beckoning them to destruction and sponsoring their devastation. However, You say that You have allowed his covert ventures. For thus Your power will be seen, in what becomes of him and his empire.
Since the unsuccessful plan to extinguish me, mocked their fallibility. And their attempts to douse my fire, shroud my light and dull my shine failed. They would so quickly, assemble a makeshift missive. Inundating the minds of the masses, with a repeat rhetoric. Instigating a reluctant relapse, that ‘this’ is as good as it gets. They are impolitic, in presuming that their atmospheric and clamped control. Synchronizes the galaxy and immortalizes their soul.
I laugh in an assortment of languages, with a peculiar dialect that summons angels. Every obstructive effort, cripples on behalf of she. Whom You have favored and graced. I watch in goaded amusement, at their desperate re-enactment of my production. An avenue that secretly inspires and informs them. Releasing comfort and joy in a fallen and grieved world. Unfortunately, the dishonor is glaring. My human hindrances are unaware, that they are only beings. Simply as strong, as their next breath. Only One, really has all the power. An authority, that denial and defiance could never affect.
Arise O mighty Warrior and let your enemies be scattered….
To be continued.
"Whatever you stand for, will eventually invade your life. Not necessarily favorably." Chioma Onwudiwe