Agonies of the Creation

 

                          

‘For we are conscious that all living things are weeping and sorrowing in pain together till now.’ – Romans 8:22 (BBE)

 

       Lowering your eyes, you may see part of your nose.

       When the mouth is shut, the ear listens beyond hearing.

       Softly, the music is playing beneath the noise of the day.

       If you pay attention, you will hear the dirge as it goes;

       The sound of mourning for this aged mother earth.

 

       Her only umbrella is pierced by her own care - less children.

       With toxics in her waters and her clothing forests destroyed,

       Her beauty fades off, her strength diminish.

       Tsunami raids, mud slide assaults and climate threats;

       Weak and tire, this tent is daily collapsing.

 

       Chaos in the sky, wandering wings everywhere.

       The wise among us are coming to their wits end.

       Many are dying; many more will have to suffer.

       As if hell is leaking, everywhere is under pressure.

       Things are falling apart even among our leaders.

 

      One thing is missing among the sons of Adam,

      Singing with their mouths, true love is not in their hearts.

      East against West, the South detests the North.

      Religion kills more than guns and bombs together.

      Under the sun everything writhes in pain.

 

     Home sweet home; our souls thirst for paradise.

     Waiting for His appearance, all our hopes are almost dashed.

     The Landlord will surely come and put His house again in order.

     Like the end of a nightmare, so will be the agonies of the creation.

     He that sits upon the throne will make all things new!

 

Comments 3 comments

Vladimir Uhri profile image

Vladimir Uhri 6 years ago from HubPages, FB

The end of this poem made it. Great.


Segun Tewogbola profile image

Segun Tewogbola 6 years ago Author

Vladimir, I really appreciate your comment, thanks for stopping by.


Tamarajo profile image

Tamarajo 5 years ago from Southern Minnesota

reminded me of the book of Ecclesiates in modern poetry. I agree with Vladimir the hope at the end was refreshing.

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