Posted in chriatian faith, inspiration, love, Poems, Uncategorized

A RUNNING AGE

Hello peeps!!! so my blog was on hiatus for a while due to some reasons and a dose of laziness on my part but i really really did miss you all… *sobs. I’m sorry I disappeared and i promise now I’m back for good. I met this super amazing person -a gift from God who has been pushing me a lot of late and I’m loving every bit of it too.

Okay, the poem below was written by a friend from school and i liked it so much i decided to make it my opening post… hope you like it!!

This is titled “A RUNNING AGE”

Ralia ran fast, faster and faster she ran.

In the deep dark forest of time,

The plain darkness of humanity,

In amazing wells of Human Knowledge,

Medieval development and civilizations.

Ralia ran fast.

She ran first on foot,

Then on horses,

She pedaled on bicycles,

Then motor coaches,

Motor Vehicles, Sport cars,

Airplanes, drones and even Private jets,

Over 2,000 years and Ralia is still running.

She ran in rain, snow and in the Sun,

She ran in the city, desert and even deep down the sea,

What a Pitiful state,

A beautiful rich lady,

Fleeing from that which is unseen.

She ran to the rocks,

They had no remedy,

She ran to Iron,

It had no solution,

She even tiptoed to thunder,

It slowed her down further.

How can you fight what you cannot see?

How can you battle what you are powerless against?

The Invisible, the unimaginable,

A monster from the past,

A mysterious foe,

A mighty enemy.

Some gave her instruments to run faster,

Others put cuts on her arms and legs,

Slowing her down,

To some she offered gifts,

To most she bowed

Yet she ran, faster and faster she had to run,

On each passing experience she became worse,

Getting tired weary and worn out.

“Who will deliver me from this bondage” She cried

Running and screaming as she cried along.

Even she didn’t know what chased her,

She only knew the pain it caused whenever it caught her,

Earthquakes, snowstorms,

Poverty, hunger,

War, Unrest,

Disease, death,

And even in death,

Turmoil.

“Come, Come” She heard,

“Come, let me give you living waters,”

She stopped,

her heart beating like the sound of an African batadrum,

“Come”, she heard again,

“Let me set you free”.

She looked closer to the direction of the voice,

“Who would accept me as I am?”, She asked

“I am no longer pretty and beautiful “,She cried,

“Sin has no power over you”

“Let me set you free”, the voice answered

“I will accept you just the way you are”

She looked close,

A hand was stretched out,

It bled from the inside out,

And it still bleeds today,

She drew her shaky self together,

Looked at her own dirty and horrible clothes,

And with tears in her eyes,

She took The Creator’s hand.

Ralia took The Creator’s hand.

Suddenly it all came to a halt.

She was at the end of the race

And yet at the beginning of another

Completely different from the first

Full of confidence and Joy,

She isn’t running alone

Her being is safe in the creator’s hands…

 

What was she running from?

What mistakes did she make,

Who and what does Ralia stand for?

What race did she run?

You already know my friend,

You already know.

Now the question is,

Are you Ralia ?

M.O.M

 

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Author:

Khariespearl is a fun loving Godgirl, writer, and aspiring novelist. when she's not teaching or writing, she's probably reading, singing or hanging out with friends; she's a terrible dancer, so she would probably fall in love with you if you're a great dancer.. xoxo

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