Fear-mongering

Ezra Bature

Ezra Bature

Tuesday 16 December 2025

The days are loud, yet truth whispers.

Knowledge multiplies, but wisdom grows thin.

We scroll faster than we pray,
speak more than we listen,
and call noise progress.

Love grows cold in crowded places.
Neighbors pass like strangers,
and mercy becomes a rare language.

Wars rehearse without rest.
Rumors travel ahead of peace.
The earth groans fires, floods, shaking ground as if creation itself
is tired of waiting.

Good is renamed outdated.
Evil is polished and reposted.
Darkness wears confidence,
and light is asked to explain itself.

Children teach rebellion,
elders are mocked,
homes lose their altars,
and faith is traded for comfort.

Hunger walks with technology.
Rich tables grow longer,
poor hands grow emptier.

Prophets speak,
but ears are busy.
Truth stands at the door,
but distraction guards the gate.

Yet still!
the sky holds its breath.
Grace delays the final page.
Mercy counts another sunrise.

This is not the end yet,
but the warning before it.
A call to wake,
to return,
to remember what matters
before the trumpet replaces the alarm.

Blessed are those
who keep their lamps lit,
their hearts clean,
and their hope anchored
for the night is deep,
and dawn will come suddenly.