Psalms In The Heart

🔥 “Inside the One Desire” (A brutal everyday climb toward the Creator ) I crawl inside the want to be One with Him, while the bills keep screaming and the lights go dim. My phone won’t stop buzzing with the world’s demands, yet my heart’s in a war zone with empty hands. I dive into that chamber where the longing burns, but the damn car won’t start and the whole day turns. Traffic jams choke me while ego pulls tight, still I search for His softness inside the fight. The boss barks orders, my patience cracks, the weight of the rent sitting on my back. Friends ghost out, loneliness stalks the room, yet I whisper His name in the inner gloom. Coffee spills down my shirt as I try to ascend, the mind mocks every dream I intend. Pain in my chest from wanting His face, but my dog pukes on the floor — so much for grace. The desire pulls harder while the world goes mad, I feel Him in the ache of the good and bad. Every interruption is a messenger sent, showing me the lack where my vessel is bent...

🔥 “The Left, the Right, and the Beast Inside” 🔥 I stand before the King with shaking hands, Pretending I’m whole while drowning in shifting sands. Above reason I praise Him like a man who can’t breathe, But when reason kicks in, it shows what’s underneath. The left line hits me like a boot to the skull, Revealing the truth—my heart’s empty, dull. Importance of holiness? Only when I fake it, Inside I’m bare, bankrupt, too damned weak to take it. I see I’ve got nothing—no faith that’s real, Just a mouth that talks tough while my knees always kneel. This lack is the knife that cuts me awake, It hurts so bad it teaches what wholeness can’t make. Emptiness carves me till I’m hollow and thin, Like the Creator ripped open my chest just to crawl in. This beast in me screams, “Take for yourself!” While the soul whispers softly, “Ask for nothing but help.” I taste the left line—cold, sharp, and vile, It shows what I hide with every forced smile. But only those who seek to bestow can feel this...

🔥 “When the Hunger Turns Holy” — A Poem on Shamati 143 I walk through days where nothing fits, The heart’s a cage the ego knits. It whispers, “Take, devour, claim,” ’Til all my thoughts burst into flame. The soul grows hungry in the dark, It claws the ribs to leave a mark. It begs for Light but tastes the mud, ’Cause every rise must cross the flood. Shamati writes: the hunger’s real— You starve until the heavens peel. You’re left with nothing but your cry, A broken vessel asking why . But this is love, disguised as pain, The lack, the longing, the inner strain. He empties you so you can feel How only He can make you real. You fight the urge to numb the ache, To run, to hide, to curse, to break. But every wound that splits your chest Is Him demanding you confess: “I’m not the owner of this life, I cannot win this inner strife. Take all I hold, all I defend— Just let me fall into my friends.” And when the darkness steals your breath, When hope feels like a quiet death, You learn...