If we are to perceive our sins to be incorrect thoughts that calls to be redirected, then in the act of correcting the thought with love as opposed to shame, we reaffirm our true essence.

In the midst of all my sins
I shall not
Define myself by sin
Be known by my sins

Because my faith is
Knowing my truth

Because my hope
Is believing my truth

My grace
Is living my truth

My sin serves as
A compass to my soul

In the midst of my sins

I shall not
Shame myself
Blame myself

I shall
Learn
Grow

Accept all of me
Embrace all of me

I shall not
Discriminate against sin
Or discriminate against my blessings

For I shall love my sins
As I love my blessings

My sins call
To me to be loved

And in loving my sins
I shall love me
And love you

Thank you for being here.

By NwK

I sit alone,
and meditate.
I think of kin,
I dare to hate.
I think of things,
that I have done.
I think of people,
we live among.


I think of deeds,
that shame my soul.
I think of sins,
I can’t control.
But as I embrace,
my inner peace,
my true emotions,
begin to feast.


To God I pray,
with all regret,
and hope my sins,
I can forget.
In time of need,
He is my guide.
He is indeed,
the righteous side.

The Devil knows all of what you desire
The many things you wish to acquire
Convincing you it’s all you require
As he pulls you close to the fire

Since Jesus Christ is God, and I am not;
Since I am not my own creator, I,
Adam, shall seek no more to justify
Myself; for every tittle, dot, and jot
Has been fulfilled by Christ who's God of all,
The Adam hitherto I could not be,
The faithful Adam faithful now in me,
Adam redeemed and lifted from the fall.

The God of all the gods of nature, earth,
The kosmos, hades, greed, lust, war, and death,
Whose word is life, whose life is breath, whose breath
Inspires the wind that seeds the second birth,
Is Sin's Exterminator, Death's Decease,
Judgment, Forgiveness, Mercy, Love, and Peace.

$ummer Apple tree$:
iPhone$ ripen in the $un—
Fir$tfruit$ of knowledge.

🌞🌏
🕊🌹🌴🐦🌳🐝🍒🦋🐿
♥️👦👧
♥️🔊👦👧🍎🌳👅❌☠
👦👧👍
🐍🔊👧♥️🔊👧🌴🌳🌲❌
👧🔊🐍🍍🍌🍐🌴🌲👅
👧🔊🐍♥️🔊👧🍎🌳👅­❌☠
🐍🔊­👧☠❌
🐍🔊👧🍎🌳📚😇👹
👧👀🍎👅😇
👧👀🍎📚
👧🍎👅
👦🍎👅
🤯😱
☠
🥀
❌🕊🌹🌴🐦🌳🐝🍒🦋🐿❌
😭

On a crisp autumn evening, in your warmth I find,
A paradise surpassing what heaven designed
In the quiet spaces between our whispers,
I find solace in the trust that lingers.
In the garden of our love, where skies are blue.
Just like Adam trusted Eve, I trust you,

The heavens may brand us as sinners, it's true,
But what's sin to the depth of me and you?
The first sins were woven in trust's embrace,
Where the forbidden fruit met love’s tender grace.

They trusted, as do I, with every chance,
Though rules may crumble, and judgments glance.
Perhaps our love defies the heavens' perfection,
Perhaps we offend Gods with our affection,
But our love outshines any celestial objection.

Why seek heaven's glow in distant height,
When beside you, my love, is my purest light?
Because what has heaven got that I can't find right here with you?

Lost in sombre details, of what really hangs around morals
-Crucifix, hanging around a sinner’s neck; so choked up
While the devil speaks on my livelihood with his demons
Parading as unwanted guests; foundations of personal griefs
I am unguarded; not well versed in a couple scripture verses

Versions of my weekly self- a relaxed stance, trying to have
Faith in a life of ease. Setting aside everything else, in the
Way of being by my bedside- faithfully praying on my knees

Still if my faith is loosely based on modern people’s commitment
To their faith and integrity, I might as well be faithless as them all-  
Seated in a church; behind on my many debts, sitting at the back
Listening to the loud laughs of the greatest hypocrites,
The usual Sunday gossip, sounding clearer than a church bell
Leaders who burnt me, quick to preach how I might go to Hell

As a failed sense of wholesome community in communal
Around church clicks of skin colour, for Sunday’s different cults
In what my conscious tries to say is a domicile sanctuary:
I’m a bit reluctant to fully agree with my own self

Greate is thy Sin, since Sin is never Small:
     And Monstrous Moles of Sin Call home thy Soule.
About their Mountainous Molehills they do Crawle.
     Play thou (and win) a Game of Whacke-a-Mole.
     Unto the Moles be Deadly as an asp.  
     Beware, take Care, nor Swat the pettish wasp.

The Harebrain'd Sinners Sins to him are toyes;
     Theyre Entertainments, Gambols, Games with Dice.
The Madbrain'd Sinners Sins to him are joyes
     Untill he's made to paye in full their price.
     The Crackbrain'd Sin-addicted Scarab bug
     That liveth but for Sin to Hell is Drug.