My Lyrical Journey of Soulful Rhymes

  What if the emerald field were Rome once more, a modern circus crowned with light and flame? What if the cheers concealed a deeper roar, while countless hearts were drawn into the game? What if each anthem stirred the soul by art, each banner waved to guide the watching throng? What if the match were theatre at heart, its triumphs timed to keep the crowd lifelong? What if, like WWE beneath the lights, each twist were known before the whistle's call? What if rehearsed became our fiercest fights, yet none perceived the script behind it all? What if we watched while others shaped our sight? Yet still Spain, Argentina, and England shine bright. © 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto

  Hosanna spills like petals in the street, Soft praises laid where dusty sandals fall; We crown the air with songs that sound so sweet, Yet scarcely know the King we seem to call. Our branches wave, but roots run cold and deep, Unstirred by truths His quiet eyes proclaim; We shout aloud, while inward shadows keep A throne untouched, unyielded to His name. He rides in peace upon the lowly way, No sword, no throne that satisfies our sight; We long for crowns of gold and grand display, But miss the cross concealed in gentle light. So still we sing, yet hearts remain apart, Palm leaves in hand, but thorns within the heart. © 29-03-2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto

  They tell us all was birthed by chance and flame, A sudden blast from void no eye has known; Yet stars still march with order none can tame, And seeds bear fruits by patterns deeply sown. How does the blind abyss compose the seas, Or teach the birds the pathways of the sky? How chaos paints the veins of autumn leaves, Or hangs the moon where silent planets fly? The human heart, with conscience burning bright, Still yearns for truth beyond the dust and sod; For random sparks cannot create the light That stirs the soul to worship and to God. It takes far greater faith to trust the blast, Than bow before the One who holds all fast. © 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto

  For more than seven days my rest has fled, The Epstein Files like fire within my bones; They haunt my waking hours, crowd my head, A witness crying out from guarded thrones. They speak of nights where power fed on shame, Of doors unsealed yet willfully ignored; Woe to the hands that knew, yet never named, Woe to the courts that bargained truth for order. We trusted crowns that promised to defend, Believed the strong would shield the frail and small; But silence proved a traitor, not a friend, And fear became the loudest voice of all. This is the hour: let hidden things be shown; For truth will rise, though long it wept alone. © 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto

  To be like Jesus, pure in heart and mind, A gentle light that shines through darkest night, With boundless love for all mankind combined, And hands that heal, restoring hope and sight. In every thought, His grace my constant guide, His Spirit whispers softly in my soul, To walk His path with humble steps beside, And seek in Him my refuge and my goal. No greater aim could ever fill my heart, Than to reflect His mercy and His peace, From worldly pride and selfishness depart, So in His likeness, all my fears may cease. This hope possesses me, forever true, To live, to love, to be like Christ anew. © 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto

(Inspired by Robert Frost's Original Poem) Two paths split in a golden wood one morn, Regretful I could not tread both ways as one Traveler; I lingered long, forlorn, Peering down each till vision was undone By tangled boughs. One broad, with merry throngs, The other slim and wild, scarce worn by feet; Though both seemed equal in their songs, The narrow called with heaven’s mercy sweet. Pondering how one choice begets the next, I wondered if return might e’er be won. Ages from now, in tales I’ll circumflex That lesser path, by grace alone begun The Savior’s trail through trials deep and vast. What light it brought! My soul’s course recast I took the road less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. © 2025 Pastor Emmanuel Serto