The Bible often refers to the heart, and it symbolizes our emotions, our intellect, and our will. So, why is this something so important that we guard it? I wrote a little poetic story on the same a while back as we did the anatomy of the heart in my medicine school class a few months ago, as God slowly unfolded to me the importance of guarding my heart and reminding me of the scarlet blood that day…


My heart beats for you,

he said it in such grace

These beautiful words at perfect pace,

except they weren’t from the Maker.

My eyes plastered on his face

such immaculate features with no foreign fissures.

No scars from a fight,

because, *really?* He either drives a car or takes a flight.

No contact with these ragamuffins whose cry is for daily muffins,

Oh no! he is of royal blood, all his steps carefully were guarded.

Heart _

Yet I guard not my heart in vigilance,

my spring of life now flows for him

down the mystery valley of touch and pleasure

under his beating heart pressure.

Each beat is my command,

and I extend favors to him

yet he flexes his pride to his boys

how he found a new prize, a new toy.


I believed it was true that he loved me

thought of all the sweet words that adorned me

His utterances raised my esteem

as I believed I was his queen.

Forgetting that I was raised in Christ

Bought at a price worth more than bride price

Like my solid ring of gold is His love endure

No beginning no end yet I wasn’t mature,

I compromised.

My valves let it through,

even when I was to relax I thought of you.

My walls chose to cave in

My insecurities gushing to you

You circulated them in my system

You reminded me about each of them

At every obstruction we met

you looked for another route

Rather than the root and their course

Their cause was your myogenicity

You seemed to have unlimited power

Such strength was surreal.

So I believed you’d help at the golden hour

Yet when the clock struck and I caved in

Lost myself and I gave in

You picked up pace

Continued being vague

All you said was that you were sympathetic of the fight I was going through

of whether to give in to your plans

and rather autonomous demands.


So my heart was now in your hands

bounded by lyric bands.

I was like an open book

and you read every part of me

My grace was stripped off me literally

As my gracilis moved laterally

Into my crevices you peeped

seeing the collected filth

Years and years of title deposits

in this library of acts.

Acts so insane

His name we did profane.

But how is it really,

that His love remained the same?

None of the pharisees were present here

For if they were they would have stoned me

Had it not been for the Rock

who raised the important question

Let He who has not sinned be the first to cast.

This act of ours with actors too many

So ready to adorn the closing-act white costumes

yet our hearts lust does consume

Our insides bleed from the impact of the pain

that searing pain. Aaaaargh!

So I cry out! Be it in pleasure or in pressure

why does pain bring so much pleasure

But I tingle a bit…start shaking too

at the intensity of this scene

the gravity of my sin.

I can’t bend because I have soiled the ground

too conspicuous not to be found…

Cut! said the director

The scene is over

A blank screen as white as snow

“As for the scar, let it heal

As did, my SCARLET on that hill.”