“In Hopelessness “ on Spoken Word

When things around are dim 

and you find yourself fading…

and though you grope for hope...

but hoping is not an option…

When pain and sadness 

are overwhelming 

and your eyes and heart 

are sore in crying...

for everything have turned 

to nothing...

When days and nights are passing

and you are stuck in your own shell...

for todays and morrows 

have lost their meaning

and you wish to not wake up again

to another morning...

Turn your eyes upon Jesus...

Focus your eyes on God...

He made life and the universe 

what then can He not do...?

He knows all that you've been through 

All the days He is with you...

He sees you through 

with His mercy and grace 

sustaining you...

Believe and trust 

God is leading you

His purposes 

are all the best for you…

from your hopelessness 

guiding you...

©️Manuelle Augustine 

Written in 2015, revised in 2026

周りのすべてが暗くなり

自分が消えていくように感じるとき…

希望を探し求めても

もう望むことさえできないと感じるとき…

痛みと悲しみが押し寄せ

心も目も涙で疲れ果ててしまうとき…

すべてが無に変わってしまったように思えるとき…

日々が過ぎていく中で

自分の殻に閉じこもり…

今日も明日も

意味を失ったように感じて

もう朝を迎えたくないと願ってしまうとき…

どうかイエスに目を向けてください…

神に目を注いでください…

いのちとこの宇宙を創られた方に

できないことなどあるでしょうか…？

神はあなたのすべてをご存じです

これまでのすべての日々も…

いつもあなたと共におられ

恵みとあわれみによって

あなたを支えてくださっています…

信じてください

委ねてください

神はあなたを導いておられます

その御計画は

すべて最善なのです…

あなたの絶望の中から

光へと導いてくださるのです…

“Be Yourself”

 

Be yourself

Be at peace with yourself

People will fail you

it does happen

Accept the fact

that we can’t always expect

best things

from anyone or anything

important is

you know yourself

and be yourself

Learn

take time to learn

but be careful with what you feed

your heart and mind

because

this will form “the you”

Fill your soul with

whatever is good

whatever is of peace

whatever is of love

and foremost

remain in God’s embrace

in His amazing grace

Manuelle Augustine

Lifeandlovequotescollections

© 2015

“Not a Poet at All” A Reflection…

 

“Not a Poet at All” … A Reflection 

A reflection on words written to survive

I wrote this poem in 2015—

in the middle of my storm.

Not after it passed.

Not when the skies cleared.

But while the rain was still relentless,

while the ground beneath me felt unsteady.

I did not write it to create something beautiful.

I wrote it because I needed to breathe.

Putting into words the battle I was going through became my way of surviving—

literally breathing, one line at a time,

learning how to overcome one day at a time.

Back then, I felt almost apologetic as I wrote,

as if I needed to explain myself in advance:

“Not a poet at all…”

Because I truly believed I wasn’t one.

What I was, in that moment, was a soul overwhelmed.

A heart ravaged and consumed by life’s blows.

Words did not arrive as art, but as necessity—

a lifeline thrown into deep waters.

There were no fascinating verses, no elegant prose.

Only echoes of teardrops.

Only mist.

Only storms.

Yet looking back now, I understand something I could not see then:

Sometimes, writing is not about being a poet.

It is about staying alive.

When the weight becomes too heavy, the soul looks for air.

Some cry.

Some pray.

Some remain silent.

I wrote.

I wrote to breathe through the pain.

I wrote to give shape to what had no name.

I wrote because facing the storm—word by word—was the only way I knew how to keep walking.

The poem says “I am no poet at all”—

but perhaps that was never the truth.

Perhaps I was simply a human being in the midst of battle,

doing what humans have always done in their darkest hours:

turning pain into language so it would not destroy them.

If you have ever written from the middle of your own storm,

if you have ever used words just to make it through the day,

know this:

You do not need to be a poet to write what is real.

You do not need polished lines to justify your pain.

Sometimes, surviving is the poetry.

This poem remains exactly as it was written.

Unedited. Unpolished.

Because it carries the breath of a past self who was fighting to stay afloat.

And to that self, I say now:

You breathed.

You endured.

You overcame—one day at a time.