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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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The Sheep's Robe #poem #heartbreak #freeverse

He refused the name of family man,
Though vows lay warm upon his hand,
A house stood waiting for his truth,
While he chased shadows, unplanned.

He wore innocence like morning light,
Soft words, a harmless face,
But rot lived deep within his core
A rotten potato in a polished case.

Women passed like pages torn,
Used, discarded, left behind,
He treated hearts like empty cups,
Never tasting the love inside.

A soulless man with vacant eyes,
No conscience knocking at his door,
Cruelty stitched beneath his skin,
A wolf’s intent in a sheep’s robe worn.

He laughed at consequences unseen,
Believed his steps would never fall,
Mistook silence for forgiveness,
Mistook delay for no justice at all.

Then demise came—quiet, swift, unplanned,
Not with thunder, not with fame,
But with loss that stripped his comfort bare,
And mirrors that whispered his name.

Wealth slipped through his careless hands,
Troubles gathered like storm-fed seas,
The throne he built on borrowed lies
Collapsed beneath neglected knees.

Now he stands where truth is loud,
Where masks no longer fit the face,
Learning too late that every heart betrayed
Leaves a debt no time can erase.

Such is the end of hollow men,
Who saw in darkness, blind to cost
When love is trashed, and vows are burned,
Even riches cannot replace what’s lost.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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