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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 Weapon in Silk #poetrydaily #poetryaddict #freeverse

She wore innocence
like moonlight wears the night,
softly,
beautifully,
deceivingly.

Her face was a garden
where angels might rest,
where fragile flowers seemed to bloom
behind a quiet smile.

Men mistook her kindness
for weakness.

They saw the velvet,
never the blade.

For beneath her beauty
lay something older than love,
harder than mercy.

A heart carved from stone.

Not cold,

for stone remembers every storm,
every wound,
every season that tried to break it.

She moved with grace,
yet every step carried certainty.

Every glance was an arrow.

Every silence,
a warning.

She was not a weapon
because she sought destruction.

She was a weapon
because life had forged her
in fire and disappointment,
hammered her with betrayal,
cooled her in sorrow.

And she survived.

Untouched by pity.

Unmoved by lies.

Beautiful enough
to stop a heartbeat,

strong enough
not to care.

So admire the roses
woven through her hair.

Admire the softness
of her innocent face.

But remember,

even the sharpest sword
can hide inside
the finest silk.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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