Oh, troubled soul

I’ve written this piece earlier this week (more like it poured out from my soul) when I was mulling about a beyond-my-control-crisis and everything that comes with it. And I thought I heard this whisper within me, “Oh, soul. Why so troubled?”


Oh, soul. Why so troubled?
Has peace left the building?
What has taken over the vacant lots?
Are Mr Darkness and Miss Ruminate the new tenants now?
Are they throwing anxiety parties in your thoughts?

Oh, soul. Why so troubled?
Going round in circles
Like a dog chasing its tail
Where are you going?
Can the world stop spinning?

Hey, soul. Look at Me.
Lift that head
Unfurrow those brows
Do you need glasses?
Can you see Me now?

Hey, soul. Look at Me.
Was I never there?
Have I ever change?
When everything is burned
What shall remain?


He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High Will remain secure and rest in the shadow of the Almighty [whose power no enemy can withstand]. (Psalm 91:1 AMP)

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