Thy Hour's Presence Poem by Agboyi Felix

Father, Thy son, Thy hour's presence comeforth thee.
Thy night so calm, eyes upon Thees glory.
Thou not favour with curse, though I doethforth for such calling still.
Soo hard cracking Thy nut in holy faith.
In solitary for no filt's cause but for I, Thy son ploughed through with no stain of evil.
Set upon this day, my monumental image;
Thy face, call me forth,
Thy hands, upon my lead,
Thy Will, seek my penitant soul,
Thy word, write upon my chest.
If nil, in humble quest, subdue not
Thees wrath upon me.