Author: Jeff Cassman
The Emperor
Arcensis
Not Giving Up
In the dusk where light is scant and thin, Echoes the faith of a man locked within, Apostle Paul, in chains unseen, His spirit vibrant, his conscience clean.
The cell is stone, the air is raw, Yet Paul stands firm in the Lord’s law, A prisoner to men, to God, he’s free, His faith a beacon for all to see.
The darkness whispers threats of fear, Yet Paul’s faith is undeterred, clear, In his heart, God’s word holds reign, Grace personified in his enduring pain.
Silhouetted against the pallor of night, He writes of love, of faith, of light, His epistles become his quill’s song, A melody of hope when the night is long.
The chains may bind, the walls confine, But not his spirit, not the Divine, The prison cell, a stage for grace, For love is boundless, knows no place.
Metaphors dance on the parchment thin, His letters of love, absolving sin, In words profound, he finds release, His prison cell, a cradle of peace.
The darkness wanes, the dawn is nigh, Yet Paul’s resolve never goes awry, In each heartache, in every trial, He sees the face of God and smiles.
A man confined, yet truly free, His strength found in divinity, Apostle Paul, in his faith, we find, A love so vast, it transcends mankind.… Read the rest
The Girl at the Well
In a hamlet, painted with Heaven’s glow, Lived a maiden, pure as untrodden snow, A damsel of virtue, young and bright, With heart as a dove, taking flight.
Her grace was a sonnet, in silence penned, In the book of life, an unwritten end, Every morning, by the well she’d dwell, As the sun yawned high, a tale to tell.
An angel, descended from realms unseen, Came to her one day, by the well so serene, His wings wide and radiant, in the morning mist, His message held, in his celestial fist.
“O fair one,” he echoed, in voice so divine, “Chosen by Heaven, in your heart stars align, A message I bring, from the throne so high, For in your humility, virtues lie.”
The maiden, startled yet filled with grace, Looked upon the angel’s luminous face, In her heart, fear took a humble bow, At the well of destiny, she stood now.
“Carry this message in your soul’s sheath, Like a blooming flower beneath a heath, Nourish it with love, grow it with care, Into a future, bright and fair.”
The angel then vanished, as a receding tide, Leaving the maiden at the wellside, Anointed with a purpose, pure and grand, A divine mystery, in her hand.
Through the pages of time, her tale we tell, Of the holy girl, by the enchanted well, Who met an angel at morning’s crest, And wore Heaven’s message on her chest.
Thus, in our hearts, her story fell, Of a girl, an … Read the rest