Better Breathe Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

Deeply my heart range in an exotic motion
Neither for food, nor shelters
But of that which creeps itself around us
Who is man

If not for the breathe of the maker
That makes all to live
We're a piece of a drop-off leaf in empty bowel
Yet our hearts arise against the maker

The great fall of Lucifer
Not minding this
The love of a father still holds
Beyond that of the father of the prodigal son

Making the son be nailed
For smooth adoption and a better breath to dwell in us
Cursed is anyone nailed on the cross
Despite being cursed

Sent this better breathe to be a guide
But in all means it's glorified an enterprise
While He's the best one would have as a companion
In silence he cries for a better place to dwell

Your heart, my heart and our hearts
Knock, knock so He's knocking
Only if you can let Him in.