Skip to main content

Ruining the song of a bird

This talks about homosexuality.

There was once a beautiful bird, God has made him to sing a different song than he is singing. The new song is due to nothing less than interference, usually starting from an early onset. The interference can both stem from within the bird and outside the bird.

The bird lost his God-given song and began singing a subpar one. We can no longer identify the bird with its former glory. It has become empty and changed, corrupted. His melody is no longer sweet and all that has been beautiful about him became dull.

Who can make him sing his song again? It is none other than the one his voice was made for.

He seemed like an outcast, other birds discarded him because he sounded different. It would be better if the bird wanted his song back, his beautiful song, but a wild snake convinced him that his broken voice was still the most beautiful in the world. He lies, because that is what he does. His words were far from the truth. The snake didn't care about the bird and so didn't tell him the truth.

Some beast ignored the bird because he wasn't a part of his own kind, "his song isn't affecting him, so why should I care if he could sing or not?"

While some told him that the new song was better that the old song, these animals blindly encourage, seeming to care but deep inside could care less.

Two people, were his song made for; his creator and his mate. Only they can make him sing again...

"The broken bird sings again,"
this is the song he would later proclaim.

"Therefore prepare your mind for action; discipline yourselves, set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed." 1 Peter 1:13

"He was destined before the foundation of the world but was revealed at the end of the ages for your sake." 1Peter 1:20

"You have been born anew, not of perishable seed but of imperishable seed, through the living and enduring word of God." 1Peter 1:23
.
.
.
.
From a lilly in her precious garden,
Taiwolilly🌼❤

Do let me know what you think below. You're greatly loved.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

GOLD

I'm looking for gold. Barefoot and hungry I wandered through the forest. My hands brushed roughly against tree trunks and shrubs as I leaned against them for support. I was tired, it's been two days. But I'd made a promise, I wouldn't leave without my gold. I could feel goosebumps rising up my body as the cold air clung jealously to my skin. 'I've lost him,' I thought looking back. Good. No one was going to share in my gold. Gold was all I needed in this world. I heard shuffling in the bushes nearby. I gasped turning around, arms and legs battle ready. "Who's there?" I silently cursed myself for sounding so shaky. There was no response. I tensed up. 'My gold,' I thought, 'my precious gold.' As I took a step towards the overgrown bushes, my lungs in my throat, out of nowhere an arrow flew right past me, missing my head by a few inches. I gasped, eyes wide. I turned around and made a run for it....

Prompt 3: Murderer

Prompt: Pick a name, a place, thing and an emotion and write a short horror story about it. Name: Megan. Place: Tennessee. Thing: Axe. Emotion: Grief Dedicated to Gbolahan (G-easy/Gbolisky)♥ ***** It was the smell that woke her this time. That tangy, fishy smell. It was in the air and whether she liked it or not it was there to stay. It clung to everything- her clothes, it clung to the boxes and gas barrels that seemed to have been abandoned for who knows how long. The mouldy rocky floor was filled with the clothes and belongings of the deceased. Megan was locked up in some kind of underground warehouse. It was dark and humid. She could barely even see her hands in front of her. It had rained the night before. Drops of rain were slowly seeping in through the cracks of the floor above her. She was cold, hungry. Counting the days here, made no difference. All the days have long since merged into one. The smell was getting worse. Usually, the bodies didn't spend...

The three

 They were three. No one could have known their end; no one even knew their beginning. But blessed they were, loved by man and scorned by the devil. They were Truth, Peace and Justice. Justice was a man, and Peace and Truth, women. They were seen as light, the joy of many nations. In them was a haven, they were stars, witnesses.  But the Darkness hated them and so plotted their deaths. He failed, once, twice, thrice, but a day came... He succeeded.  _The end_ was near after all; the end and beginning of everything. There were no cries no wails, no lament; it was a peaceful death. The _Darkness_ was happy and gifts were exchanged to commemorate the deaths of the three. The inhabitants of the earth were happy, that is until they arose from the dead.  Oh how Darkness raged, but alas it was too late. He didn't know, that death could never hold them. . . . Taiwolilly✌