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There is God

Severe affliction stroke my mortal kneels
And my hands were fused on a rolling wheels
I struggled like I was about to drown
Then the lights shone for hope to ending frown

I made His word a noble solid ground
Got into prayers on several rounds
I prayed that I walk into daily meal
That grace in the deserts shall favour me

I imagined how on His golden throne
He did bestow on my head a crown
Victory, amongst all I shall heed
And never forget, that there is God.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Seed of grace

What is harder in hard knocks
When your rigorous efforts
Cause a state of affliction
Whereas if your head ducks
And your hands are tucked
Failure becomes a tough luck.

I know a man called grace
Whenever he is reluctant
And a bit of ignorant
Challenges he can outshine
Just seems to try their luck
And he always cleans the dust.

He is magical like a witch
And the flying horses wish
Everyone hallucinate about;
He is not the best on pitch
Yet he always wins the race
As if victory is his birthplace

He is always so unprepared
Each time the sweat drops
Harvesting adversities…
He springs up from ill luck
Turning sickness to fortunes
From a seed sown with efforts.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Grace on me

In a deep noiseless dark
I did hear all they spoke
Effortlessly, then I woke;
Floating on a gracious flake.

Garri and salt, I used to soak
Hopelessly, until the break..
Behold, grace on me took
Me, into the flames of smoke.

In the air, mighty walls I crack
Breaking into the tall blue sky;
Flying like birds without a brake,
Grace on me is real not fake.

Relentlessly, for my humble sake
Success sacks fell on my arm to take
In the turbulent dark dead lake,
Grace on me is an iceberg’s puke.

When it pours, I float to the dyke
Waterproof covered with so much like
Groceries of failure, I don’t cook or bake
Because in this race; grace got my back.

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