The Rise

I feel your dreams taking motion in me.
The pull of the moon howling for the company
Of demons that oppress me. I kick and
I scream as the moment approaches me.
Yet within this great battle I realize they aren’t leaving me.
I’m letting go tonight
I’m letting the claws and fangs
Freely draw out of me.
I’m fulling embracing the pain
Of what’s utterly wronged me!
I’m allowing the shame of what I’ve done
Completely, like blood, to drain out of me.
I’m releasing the hardness of my anger
To slowly burn up like dross from the deepest core of me.

The monster within will then begin
To ascend to it’s victory,
bragging ever so cleverly that
He’s the master of his own recovery.
And I’ll quiver like a broken ship sinking
To the bottom of the sea,
Broken to the storms will
That got the best of me..

Alone. Forgotten. Simply a puppet in the hand of it’s master…

But what this monster doesn’t see.
Is the one and true key!
That in my moment of surrender and his epic conquer.
I rise in the shadow of his pride
Strong in the brokenness of life.
I carry the true victory through one historic night.
So I’m dropping these chains
Of bondage attached to my soul.
The tearing of their hold
Is like circumcision to the very
Heart beat of me as a whole.
Releasing these blades of slaughter
Out of hands of hurting fathers;
Breaking the ties that lead to our sons and daughters.

It’s in this process that lies the key
To the final victory that only the heart can see.
True strength is not measured by the greatest
Man of height and all the eye can see!
But by brokenness almost to the point of defeat.
That In our weakness and surrender
We remember the words “only the least of these.”

© Nicholas VanScoten 2012


About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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