Untitled Introduction

Bid me Jesus Christ
Make me an instrument of your life.
Make me your worthy bride
Who does as you command in every land, place, and time.
Pray with you in your house we reign,
With all your saints we proclaim thy name,
KING OF KINGS, LORD OF LORDS. Amen.

Greetings, my name is Tevada and welcome to The Lesser Word, my personal website for all my work in verse and prose. I write to keep my sanity, I write because I have a mouth but can not scream, and because I hope beyond all hope that a coffin-party death isn't the only means of freeing us from our afflictions. If one desires to read prose, verse, and essays written by a Christian born out of isolation, then you've come to the right place. I am seperate among a seperate people, broken to bits by lawful malediction before life could even begin. Since birth, I've been groomed into a manufactured machine. Even my redemption, it seemed, lied in tying another leash, and all I can do is watch while everyone else trots happily beyond my pen, free.

And that's enough of the poetics! One may write themselves into a terrible melancholy. I have God in flesh and blood so I am fine. Now, let us get back on topic.

In the library are books I'm currently drafting and books I enjoy reading. Currently, I update daily a work of biblical Christian poetry titled "Ekeldema: An Armory for Spritual Warfare." Feel free to check it out by clicking on the cover below.

Ekeldema is a collection of poems authored by a wretched soul. Here is a tale of death, resurrection, and guilt which comes from the mercies given for sins deserving death. Yea, the guilt of an undeserving life who has sinned and reaped the rewards of good. [Updated Daily]

An Excerpt from Ekeldema 32:

Oh God, if I be your enemy,
Could you still love me?
Oh God, if your Word be true,
Could you still love me too?
Even if I'm no friend of yours
Could you still help me Lord?
Doesn't your sun shine
On both evil and good?
Could I be loved though I'm no good,
Could you save me from
Self-afflicted curse?

For too many years I've blasphemed.
I am ashamed, forgive me.
I sometimes wish I'd never been.
If I had sinned a greater sin,
Perhaps you'd have less offense,
But now I've sinned and can't forget
By the mark of mortal sin.
Could you please lift this mark?
Lord could you please forgive
Or will I have to walk the Earth,
Ashamed you let me live
For so long as I can't forget!