Through the Brokenness

Sometimes we get hurt and then decide to lock ourselves away so that we can’t be hurt again. Here’s a little story. 

Blood runs down his arm from what’s left of the heart he once wore on his sleeve
A gentle spirit is now imprisoned in an icy palace of indifference
A heart once so trusting is now given to lusting after items to build the walls higher
The women and the drinks, the motions and the winks making people think he cares for nothing
His spirit shivers in its cold prison dreaming of daylight
Hateful glances and cold, harsh sentences patrol the perimeters to ensure no one gets in.
Or out.
The distant drums of a siege echo in the surrounding valleys

Hours, days and years pass by as the walls grow taller. And yet, weaker
The piled up sexual relationships, the empty bottles, the glass promises shattered to bits
All packed together, impenetrable
His spirit is becoming restless, pining for outside daily now, visited only by loneliness
It writhes in a silent, melancholy agony until the pressure of desperation squeezes a tiny cry from within that echoes through the palace walls and beyond
“Help me…”
The walls begin to tremble.

Outer defences were weakened by cannonballs of encouragement
Catapults of promises from above brought him to his knees
Scowls fight with all their might but they’re falling fast and giving way to smiles
Random acts of kindness scale the towers of pessimistic expectation and raze them to the ground
Panic spreads among the palace guard
Hearing the sound of battle outside his spirit cries out again
“Help me, please”
The king of the attacking army rose from his throne
“Please I want to get out, I want to be free!”
The king put on his armour
“I’m sorry I ever built this place, I’m sorry I ran away!”
The king mounts his horse and begins his assault in the wake of his army
Walls become roads before the power of his charge
Barriers become pathways in the wake of love’s fury
His eyes of fire see right through the walls of ice to the inner chamber

The man’s spirit trembles
Face to face with Grace’s embrace, his heart would race if it hadn’t already stopped
The love of Love looks him in the eyes seeing all that he is, sighs and says
“Follow me.”
They leave the cage behind and walk out to meet the world.

 

Thanks for reading and yes, the King of the army is Jesus.
Check out the other poems in the Poetry page up top!

ice fortress

 

Find the rest of my poems HERE

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