my attempt at a poem about Psalms 108

My heart is fixed, my brother, even when life breaks in two,

When the bills hit, the phone rings, and the world turns on you.

But I rise before dawn, I sing though I’m torn,

Because faith was never born in comfort, faith is born when we’re worn.

The world feels like a battlefield where doubt takes its aim,

Every heartbreak and failure tries to whisper my shame.

But I shout to the heavens, “My soul will not fall!”

For the Creator lifts even the weakest who answer His call.

When fear storms in like a thief in the night,

And the Ten feels far, and I’m losing the fight,

I remember the promise — His mercy stands wide,

Like the sky stretched out forever, no place left to hide.

O God, make us strong when the world says we’re weak,

Let Your greatness replace every wound that we speak.

For when we walk as one heart, one voice raised above,

Even the darkest mile turns into a road paved with love.

So I hold to this psalm like a lifeline in hand,

Even when I’m too broken to even stand.

For mercy and truth rise higher than pain,

And the Ten becomes my wings in the pouring rain.

And we’ll sing through the battles we never asked for,

Lift each other again when we fall to the floor.

Because Psalms 108 isn’t ancient or gone—

It’s the cry of today when the night feels too long.

So let every shattered moment be a doorway to light,

Let us choose one another when there’s nothing left right.

For He saves us from fear, from despair, from the end—

He gives us victory together, brother to friend.

And I swear on the tears that we’ve both had to bleed,

This Psalm isn’t a poem — it’s the strength that we need.

A promise carved deep through the struggle and flame:

That the Creator never leaves us, and we rise just the same.

Shamati 123 I am the Prayer Not the Power

🔥 SHAMATI 123 — “I Am the Prayer, Not the Power” 🔥

I walk this world like I’m strong, like I’m ready to fight alone,

But Shamati says the secret: I never stood on my own.

It is written in fire: the Creator does all the work,

And my strength is just a shadow where the doubts and demons lurk.

I scream to heaven with fists, thinking I’m the one who builds the wall,

Until the truth tears open: I am nothing at all.

The whole battle isn’t winning, it’s admitting I’m weak,

And begging the Creator for a tongue when my heart cannot speak.

He breaks me on purpose so I’ll finally understand,

I don’t conquer evil by the might of my hand.

The ego roars like thunder, demanding control,

But Shamati whispers the law: I have no power in this soul.

It is not my job to fix, to rise, to purify the heart,

All I can do is pray to be a humble part.

Like a child in the storm clinging tight to His sleeve,

Begging only for faith, so that I’ll never leave.

How many times I fought thinking it was me against fate,

Never knowing the Creator already opened the gate.

The pain, the failures, the nights I cursed the sky,

Were the Creator holding me close, teaching me to rely.

Every fall was His bullet, every tear His command,

Not to give me defeat—but to break my stand.

To show me I am just a tool, a vessel to bend,

And the work of correction is His, from start to end.

So I throw down my pride, my strength, my throne,

I am not the ruler—I am just a stone.

Waiting for His hand to carve the vessel in my chest,

And turn every shattered piece into love and into rest.

I am the beggar, the prayer, the spark inside the night,

And the Creator is the One who awakens the Light.

So take all of me, every failure, every broken part,

And sculpt the shattered ruins into one beating heart.

The Two Labors in One Heart

🔥 “Two Labors in One Heart” 🔥

(A poem on faith above reason, and the Ten)

I wake up with bills, phones, fights in my head, 

The body screams logic: “Give in, stay in bed.” 

But the purpose of life isn’t comfort or ease, 

It’s fear of the Creator that brings me to my knees.

The wicked asks questions—“Why suffer again?” 

I answer, “Above reason,” and step into the Ten. 

Because ego wants proof, wants control, wants to see, 

But faith is the fire that burns logic in me. 

I try to Self-Nullify during traffic and rage, 

The coworker shouts—my ego wants center stage. 

But the Ten are watching when no one else is near, 

And Inclusion means holding their souls more dear. 

Activation happens in the smallest things, 

In loneliness, heartbreak, the pain that life brings. 

When the car breaks down and the bank account bleeds, 

We answer with love—not the ego’s needs. 

I fall and I fail; the wicked mocks every flaw, 

He says, “Reason is king! Your faith has no law.” 

But that’s when I whisper—no logic, no plan, 

“Creator, You lead. I just follow as man.” 

I fear with love, not trembling fright, 

Because fear means I want to do Your work right. 

And the Ten stands beside me when the questions ignite, 

Brother to brother, we push through the night. 

Self-Nullification: when I surrender control, 

Inclusion: when I merge my life with the whole. 

Activation: when I move just to bring You delight, 

Even when the wicked screams in the dark of the night. 

And every time ego tests—with temptation and pain, 

I say, “Now I work. Now my faith is made plain.” 

For above reason means I don’t need to see— 

I need only the Ten, and the Light guiding me. 

So thank You Creator for the questions that rise, 

They break me and crush me and strip off disguise. 

For only in tearing the logic apart, 

Can You rewrite Your Name deep into the heart. 

And the world keeps collapsing like old rusted steel, 

But together we rise and together we heal.  

We answer the wicked with love, not a fight, 

And we climb above reason, straight into the Light.