Unspoken Truth

Deposit of power—deposit of trouble!
Its either I exercise it and destroy the destroyer
or I don’t and the destroyer consumes me.
There exists a swelling within me,
by the day it grows.
I try to suppress and choke it, but the more I do,
the more it suppresses me and throws me into bondage.

Therefore I see I have become a slave!
Slave to that swelling inside of me.
Spirit, soul, flesh and blood steer up conflict within and outside of me;
with my spirit desiring to do what is right,
but my flesh negates every will of the spirit thereby causing war within,
my soul just gets fed up with the battle between my spirit and flesh;
it guns and yearns for departure into rest—backyard of conflicts and lies!

At the brink of a cruxes pedestal my life is hanging,
the seed planted has become a tree by the rivers
and these rivers must be living else this tree should be dead!
The crescendo has made up to an ecstasy that can’t be gainsaid about.
I’m in trouble help me!
The seed of truth would not let me be till I serve it,
but my flesh loathes this seed.

My spirit is bound to it forever and a servant forever,
but flesh and blood are rebellious causing uneasiness
within and outside of me oh poor me!
Who is going to help me?
Who will deliver me from this plague?
Just one! Just one!
I mean, just once to let the swelling an outburst, maybe just maybe!

Truth swells, help me—flesh and blood cry!
What a pitiable item I’ve become!
I trudged the maternity and beheld screaming
cut through and pierce through the environ,
emotions ran wild in me and
pity for the woman ate me up.
And I am not pitiable myself?

Outside she was hard pressed,
inside is a big creature seeking an unleashing
through a tiny exit,
then all of a sudden, a big-bang mess;
baby in dirt, blood and water flow never mixing.
Then I considered after a very long while—what I call a trick,
she who cried and screamed is now asking for more.

Hmm…
who knows maybe if I let this swelling out
the woman is my mirror?
But what if flesh and blood gets angry
and destroys me for yielding to the spirit?
What if the truth doesn’t deliver me?
What if I get in trouble by my flesh?

I have come to an edge—
if I die, I die! If I perish, I perish!
I must choose this day.
Then I considered that truth is good,
that we need speak the truth
for the sake of those that doesn’t have the power to.
And that when we speak it, we gain power!

And since what swells in me gains power every day,
why flow against this current?
I will rub my skin with the cream called power,
that the outside might balance the inside
and I gain stability on all sides.
This is my decision and it’s final!
Truth swells—flesh and blood cry!