The Dark Light aka The P-poem

WHAT consumed me was what I could see, The dark light that looked so real.

It was an attraction I could feel, That kept me away from a kneel.

It was this sweetened evil attraction that whispered in me to take a chill,

Whenever change tried to talk to me.

Under the vision of the dark light, Life was good, or at least I thought it was. I could see beyond its rays,

Except it was what I wanted to see, not what was real.

See, the dark light had a trick of its own, A way of turning fake into fate.

Under the guidance of the dark light, I became the very opposite of what I was meant to be.

A predatory expert of destruction instead of being a precursor of pacification.

A prey to darkness that was devoured like a prawn instead of praying without ceasing and preaching the precious words.

The dark light was prerogative in making me believe that my preconceived ideas were nothing but nothing.

Somehow, I believed that I was predestined to be no one and somehow, I was okay with it because this dark light was faithful to me, it never stopped shining . . . Or . . . Did it?

What the dark light underestimated was that I was preordained.

My true one, the one with the purest of lights was well prepared of this predicament.

With no warning, he precipitated his mercy on me.

He poured his love that soaked me with precision.

His righteousness clothed me into a prime. He broke the padlock that held me prisoner,

And he paddled me to safety.

I was not a lovely sight to see,

But, he made me into a Primrose, out of me is a panorama that is full of beauty.

Now . . .! Like a photosynthetic plant under phototropism,

I grow towards his light,

Like a photovoltaic cell, I lay still, feeding upon the brightest of lights, a light that is forever faithfully illuminatingly visible.

My path is clear now, as I press on towards the priceless calling,

For when the precious light set me free, I was free indeed.