Tales from the Heart: Volume 1: A Collection of Poems, Songs and Novelettes

By Christian Colossus

Tales from the heart Volume 1 is a collection of poems, songs, and novelettes written to express the views of the author on various subjects. The songs are praise and worship of God. The poems are in various categories including prayers, praise-worship, the love of God, inspiration, warnings against unholy character and so much more. The novelettes are eye-openers as to possibilities of spiritual bondage. They are also counsel against ignorance and godlessness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Colossus
• Release date: Nov 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370407613

Christian Colossus

Christian Colossus was born in Lagos, Nigeria and now lives in Canada. One of his primary missions is to expose the truth of salvation so that people may walk in the light rather than the darkness. He became a born-again Christian over thirty years ago and has been a minister, evangelist, teacher of the gospel and author of Christian literature. He teaches and spreads the gospel of Jesus through books and other media. He is a living testimony that with Jesus, the Almighty God, all things are possible. Mr. Colossus holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Biochemistry from the University of Maryland-College Park in College Park, Maryland, USA. He also holds a Master of Science degree in Bioinformatics from the University of Maryland University College in Adelphi, Maryland, USA.

Book preview

SECTION ONE (POEMS)

SECTION TWO (SONGS)

SECTION THREE (NOVELETTES)

SECTION FOUR (NOTES)

SECTION ONE - POEMS

(I)

POEMS

Unholy Comfort (Of the Pretty Ones)

A POEM BY DESMOND OGIRRI

COPYRIGHT (C) 2016-2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Verse One

By and by, the wild seasons go by,

In unholy comfort, the pretty ones do lie.

And when the gardens, the thorns cause to sigh,

The flowers, even the pretty ones, shall die.

Verse Two

Little by little, the wild ones do come in,

By dark wisdom, their attack does begin.

To rise and fight, the pretty ones aren't willing,

Felled by ignorance, becomes their greatest sin.

Verse Three

A gathering of wild ones will surely ensue,

'Ere pretty ones make their homestead true;

Amid dreams, warnings and countless clues,

Death, not life, some pretty ones will choose.

Verse Four

And then, one day, the great battle's set in array,

To vanquish the pretty ones and their holy way;

But when the pretty ones, to heavens, do pray,

An end to wild ones they'll bring that fateful day.

Verse Five

And when the Lord of Lords makes the final call,

To gather pretty ones on the holy side of the wall,

Then shall He ask them, But why permit the wild-done maul?

And they'll answer, In unholy comfort, in ignorance, did we fall.

END

Woe unto the Wicked

A POEM BY DESMOND OGIRRI

COPYRIGHT (C) 2016-2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Verse One

Woe unto the wicked,

He shall certainly die.

The words of his mouth,

Are like the scorpion's sting.

The thoughts of his heart

Plot against the godly man;

The actions of his body parts,

Commit every sinful thing.

His eyes wander to and fro,

To satisfy the lust of his flesh;

His ear gates twitch for evil,

Open only to songs of wickedness.

He has but one main line of work –

That's the ruin of his fellow man.

As he has sown, he shall surely reap –

To die by reason of his ungodliness.

Verse Two

Woe unto the wicked king, Herod,

And to all other kings just like him.

Men in high places assigned by evil,

To seek and destroy stars in infancy.

He sits on thrones of great power,

Biding his time for the stars to show.

Thence, quickly, Herod shall arise,

To bring an end to children of destiny.

The king shows no love or mercy;

He has no iota of divine purpose,

But evil eyes burn with dark fire,

As he seeks to cause destiny's death.

Death becomes the dastardly king,

For his is a world of destruction.

Outside, he feigns love and charm,

Within, he plots evil in every breath.

Verse Three

Woe unto that wicked queen, Jezebel,

The Queen of Witchcraft, enemy of peace.

Scheming infinitely, she plots her goals,

That her sword may shed the victim’s blood.

Her ways are madness, the ways of evil,

The queen's ways lead to grievous sin.

Heart of evil set against the holy ones;

And to please her god, she curses their Lord.

In rage, she unleashes her dark power,

And so many suffer from her brutal hand;

In cold blood she prolongs her own life,

But surely, maybe slowly, comes her doom.

Under Jezebel, there's but grave sorrow,

Sadness is palpable as melancholy reigns,

Forsake hope, all ye under Jezebel's power,

But suddenly she dies, not a second too soon.

Verse Four

Woe unto the wicked emperor, Pharaoh,

Woe unto his hosts and strong chariots,

Who pursue the children of Almighty God,

To hold them captive in tightly-sealed cages.

Pharaoh holds both young and old,

Handing them to hard taskmasters,

Who appoint them to grueling tasks,

And place Israel in wicked bondages.

Then will God arise for his people,

'Cos He's heard their cry for years.

He determines to set them free,

But Pharaoh shall not let them go.

The Mighty God shall descend in fury,

To destroy Pharaoh with all his hosts,

By plagues, hardness of heart and death,

So, Pharaoh concedes at the final blow.

Verse Five

Woe unto children of darkness,

And all who practise wickedness,

Who seek to impose lawlessness,

On the powerless who can't fight.

Darkness seeks its primary goals –

The damnation of humanity's soul,

The inhibition of human salvation,

And elimination of children of light.

Around the world evil men reign,

With deception they rule over men.

As men sleep and awake every day,

Darkness sows seeds to vanish peace.

The Lord has vowed to destroy darkness,

So the wicked shall have no peace but ill.

And when the sword of the Lord arises,

Then wickedness, even its reign, shall cease.

END

The Sky Is Blue

A POEM BY DESMOND OGIRRI

COPYRIGHT (c) 2011 - 2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

VERSE 1

Can't you see?

That the sky is blue?

With its primary color,

And unmistakable hue.

In the east,

It brings up the sun,

That sets in the west,

When the fiery ball is done.

In the north, it looks down,

On the world so cold.

And in the south, it casts a spell,

With beauty untold.

The winds flow from the sky,

They whirl and they blow,

The sky and its beauty,

They all put on a show.

Seasons come, seasons go,

But the sky remains true.

People reap 'ere they sow,

Beneath the glorious blue.

Be it cumulus or stratus,

Whether cirrus or nimbus,

The clouds in the sky

Confirm the truth to us.

That whether rain or shine,

And whether lie or true,

Whatever we do,

The sky will always be blue.

VERSE 2

Who made the world?

Who made the world so round?

Who made the moon and sun?

That sit high up and sky-bound?

And who made the sky?

Who made it blue and why?

Who made the world?

That's under the blue-lit sky.

Who made the men in the world?

Who live under the blue on high?

If you ask me I would tell you

What I think of it all.

Maybe the greatest story I ever heard,

If I'm making the call.

It must be God who made the world,

Made the sun, the moon,

The men and all the creatures,

Under the sky-blue boon.

He made the sky, in all its beauty,

And spread it over the world,

To hold the sun, and the moon,

As the skies unfurl.

He chose a color for the sky,

Of all colors 'twas royal blue,

And don't ask me why,

'Twas given a majestic hue.

None else could' a done it,

It's such a perfect blue fit.

VERSE 3

O, what is love?

Without the big blue sky.

And what is passion's delight,

Without the moon so high?

I recall not long ago,

On a night the mood was right,

Me and the lady of my heart

On a blue star-lit night.

Tightly locked in my arms,

She looked me in the eyes.

And then she said: "Oh chéri,

Say, can't you see?

When two hearts beat as one,

Then love is meant to be.

And if true love is the beauty

Of the great blue sky,

Then as long as the sky's blue,

Our love can never die.

In my dreams we fly up high,

Swept up by the moon,

So hopelessly in love,

Under its enchanted tune.

O, great king of my heart,

I shall be your queen,

And when we reminisce

You'll see what I mean;

That true love can never die,

Beneath the big blue sky."

END

Yellow Are the Rays of the Golden Sun

A POEM BY DESMOND OGIRRI

COPYRIGHT (c) 2016-2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

1. VERSE ONE

The color of true power is the highest heaven,

And the beauty of the rainbow is varied in seven.

The color of human love is unique to every heart,

And the success of destiny is at its end not its start.

The color of wisdom is the excellence of its choices,

And trouble is known by its strange and evil voices.

The color of human madness is the barrel of a gun,

And red is the blood when the madness is done.

The color of God's love is in human salvation,

And yellow are the rays of the golden sun.

2. VERSE TWO

The color of war is death and destruction,

But peace is known as tranquility in the long run.

The color of the world's common language is money,

And the power of money may be sweeter than honey.

The color of darkness is determined by moonlight,

And the world goes silent at the presence of the night.

The color of true majesty is the king's grip on the throne,

But the success of the king on the throne is unknown.

The color of blood may be red for everyone,

But yellow are the rays of the golden sun.

END

King of the Jews

A poem by Desmond Ogirri

COPYRIGHT (c) 2016-2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

1. Verse One

He is a member of the greatest family,

The second person of the Holy Trinity,

He is qualified and fit to be called God,

'Cos he is the 'Logos,'—God's holy word.

Some call him Lord, some call him enemy,

One thing is sure—he spares not enmity.

Love him or hate him, that you must choose,

But none can deny he is King of the Jews.

2. Verse Two

Son of King David, born of the Virgin Mary,

The sins of the world on his shoulders to carry,

Greatest son of Judah, the chosen King,

Hosanna in the highest, his angels so sing.

But why did he die for the sins of so many?

His Father's salvation plan was his destiny,

Applaud or mock him, worship or abuse,

But none can deny he is King of the Jews.

3. Verse Three

Wonderful victory on the cross of Calvary,

It is done was the shout of that victory.

Descended to hell, to the heart of the earth,

He conquered death as he lay on a bed of death.

He took back the keys of death that his faithful ones,

Would live and not die because of his salvation.

Celebrate his story or choose your own views,

But none can deny he is King of the Jews.

4. Verse Four

His name is Jesus Christ and he is God Almighty,

His title and star were announced in the heavenly.

He came to save the Jews but their eyes were dim,

Their king they rejected telling Pilate, Crucify him.

The Jews killed their Lord and thought he was gone,

They knew not the damage to evil they had done.

Accept his Lordship or quite stubbornly refuse,

But you can't deny Jesus is the King of the Jews.

END

Cold, Cold World

A POEM BY DESMOND OGIRRI

COPYRIGHT (c) 2016-2017 DESMOND OGIRRI

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

1. Verse One

I stay awake at night refusing to fall asleep,

In the sheets, voices cry out from the deep,

Who conspired to make the world so cold?

And unleash upon humanity horrors untold.

Evil did deny and the devil did the same,

But madness is the name of life's evil game.

Dark forces keep men from their destiny,

Even in the family lies the greatest enemy.

Evil demands its dues if you dare ascend,

Hopelessness drives many onto a bitter end.

Noah may be gone but the floods aren't done,

The Lord of the Floods yet wields the big gun,

And the children of men shall he query one day,

In the cold, cold world, what role did you play?

2. Verse Two

Voices of children weeping deep into the night,

Suddenly they disappeared in broad daylight.

Strange hands find and seek to snatch them from sight,

Young ones whose hands, by themselves, cannot fight.

Agents of darkness deliver them to priests of death,

And the life of the little one ends with his last breath.

Hell at once is loosed as the precious blood is shed,

The night sleeps no more for the young ones are dead.

Woe unto the takers, the murderers, and their sword,

Woe unto those guilty of shedding young blood.

And when they pray the children call upon the Lord,

Arise to save us, show the world that you are God.

If the children keep dying, the future shall go barren,

This cold, cold world is hardly a place for children.

3. Verse Three

I wake up early with a prayer and morning yawn,

Alertness fills my soul at the cock's crow at dawn,

I pray the spirit of the Lord today will lead me on,

I hope his favor will find me well under the sun.

Trouble will rear its ugly head, it's not if but when,

In the name of the Lord I'll overcome all evil men.

The lives of men is mostly a well-concealed lie,

It seems for anyone to live another one must die.

They speak kindly but plot evil with every breath,

The hearts of men are wicked and cold as death.

Oh Lord, save me from the fowler and his snare,

Let your angels watch and guard me everywhere.

Neither sun nor moon shall smite me day or night,

This cold, cold world shall not beat me in this fight.

4. Verse Four

Stories of sadness overwhelm the daily news,

To see so much suffering does not at all amuse.

When ambition bites a man desiring to be king,

He goes to wicked powers to promise anything,

What shall be done for power to come to me?

Give up your beloved and a king you shall be.

He agrees and a great abomination is committed,

Blood is then shed and a vengeful spirit is emitted.

The man becomes king and with joy takes his place,

Behold the ugliness of the world in its true face.

To join them or decline is a choice you must make,

But the choice to join will bring so much heartache.

May the Creator of the Universe deliver us from evil,

For loss of virtue in this world may offer no retrieval.

5. Verse Five

The fowler set his snare to stop the good birds from flying,

The birds may escape but the fowler shall not stop