Guest Post: Diablos and Arkaygos

I am excited to share with you another guest poem and this time from my very own dear sister, Elisabeth. Check out her own blog through the link below in her short bio.
Suna ambled through maples and beeches,

Wearing a peasant's shirt and breaches.

A lively young man, tall, thin, and ruddy,

He wandered through the woods, damp and muddy.


Life was a smile for Suna, full of cheer;

It was bubbles and dandelion seeds,

With a blue sky, shimmering, bold, and clear,

Droplets of dew on grass like diamond beads.




Then came Diabolos, that evil knight,

Then vanished all glimmers of hope or light.

Suna's world went from smile to frown,

And his liveliness went from up to down.


Diabolos smirked his devilish smirk,

He was far more than just “a piece of work.”

His eyes were fiercely black, his jaws were set.

Suna stood still with fright where they two met.


“You're mine, you've always been and always will,”

Diabolos sneered, coming nearer still.

Suna's heart battled his chest with drum beats,

He felt hopeless, doomed, as when fear competes.


Then, as Diabolos came way too close,

Suna threw his bare fists in frantic fright,

Then stopped and stared behind Diabolos,

Where stood a glorious Prince to their right.


“Don't try, Suna,” He said, “I'll take this one.

Trust me and become forever My son.

I paid the price for you before your birth,

Diabolos knows that and knows your worth.”


Diabolos turned with hate at His voice,

And uttered one word in dread, “Arkaygos.”

Suna thought, The Prince is the better choice,

Then said, “I'll trust You, not Diabolos.”


“Then,” said the Prince, “Diabolos, be gone,”

With such power that Suna felt so low.

Diabolos turned and fled like a fawn.

Suna stood by the Prince, safe from the foe.

Suna looked into the face of the Man,

“You fought my fight for me without a sword;

That vile knight fled like a sissy and ran,

But I'm not worthy, I'm base too, my Lord.”


Arkaygos smiled and quietly replied,

“I won your fight on the cross where I died;

My death, your life. Defeating death, I won.

Now,” He said with open arms, “You're my son.”


“But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name.”

John 1:12
Elisabeth Leake is a Christian, 19 years-old, takes three home school classes, lives with her family in North Carolina, loves to play piano, sometimes draw, once in a while read a book, and enjoys writing poetry and songs. She has a blog called Ruhamah and the Spikenard.



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