It is 3 a.m. in the morning: the time that is commonly referred to as the bewitching hour. This is the moment that darkness and silence stalks the land. This is the moment that is pregnant with fear, uncertainty and mystery.
This is the moment that evil is undone and that witches return home from their blood-drenched covens. This is the moment that hearts beat fast and that sensitive ears tingle at the slightest sound.
I love the stillness of this sacred hour. I love the power of the darkest morning and the blackest night. I love that bewitching moment when darkness gives way to light. It banishes inhibitions and it kindles passion.
It heightens sensitivity and it excites the human spirit. It purifies the inner man and it sharpens the inner voice. It brings communion with God and it strengthens the soul. It stirs creativity and it brings peace.
O that that peace would last and that that beautiful stillness and silence would persist. It brings strength, empowerment and clarity of thought and vision.
It brings insight, a refreshing and it makes all things beautiful. It soothes troubled souls and it brings joy to broken hearts. It kindles love and it invokes unimaginable pleasures and secret desires.
It is at such times that the most crucial decisions can safely be made. It is in such moments that we can worship our God with passion and reckless abandon. It is at that time that monsters run, that demons flee and that angels dance.
It is at that moment that the Spirit of the Lord raises His standard and stems the flood. It is at that time that Gods redemptive power brings hope and restoration. It is at that moment that He raises His banner of power and love.
It is at that time that silence whispers and that we hear Him clearly. I love the stillness of this sacred hour. I love the power of the darkest morning and the blackest night. I love that bewitching moment when darkness gives way to light.
This certainly cannot be a poem — no one begins a poem with, “It is…” This is nothing but the rambling of a confused fellow. The “essay” began with a revelry in superstitions (witches and wizards), morphed into the abstract (creativity, empowerment, and insight), and then reverted back to superstitions (worshiping of God and angels dancing).
Nothing Kayode said in this “essay” is supportable by facts, reason, or literary liberty. 3 AM is certainly not when darkness gives way to light; it is not when heart beats are at their fastest, and it surely banishes no inhibitions — consciousness has to exist for inhibitions to be active. Not at 3 AM, he should try again after sobering up!
What monsters? What witches is he writing about? It’s either 3am or 3 o’clock in the morning. Never 3am in the morning. Darkness and Silence stalk (not stalks) the land. You should have edited this before posting it.