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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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Ashes of Tomorrow #sadpoetry #poem

Failure upon failure
like waves that never learn mercy,
each one rises higher than the last,
crashing into what little I managed to build.

Trials come as fire,
not the kind that warms,
but the kind that hunts,
burning beginnings before they can breathe.
Dreams turn to smoke,
plans to blackened bones.

Morning arrives without promise,
Tomorrow is an empty word,
Hope is a language I no longer speak.
I wake only because sleep lets me go.

Every finger points in my direction
sharp, accusing, certain.
They do not ask what I carried.
They only measure what I dropped.
In their eyes, I am the lesson,
the warning, the mistake.

I feel like a victim in my own life,
trapped inside a story
Others narrate with cruel confidence.
Even my strength is questioned,
Even my silence is judged.

I searched the ruins for light,
but found only echoes of who I was.
Faith feels foolish here,
Prayers fall like stones, unanswered.

All hope seems lost,
buried beneath ash and blame,
beneath fires that never taught me how to rise_
only how to burn.



© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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