The poem “In the Sin-Sick World, Write On: Christ-Centered Poets Bearing Jeweled Verses of Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, Malachite, Rhodochrosite—Treasured by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” is a concise yet uplifting devotional work in classical rhymed form.

In five quatrain stanzas (plus a resolving couplet), it uses ABAB rhyme and iambic tetrameter/pentameter to create a hymn-like rhythm.

It begins by posing the central question: In a broken, “sin-sick world” full of darkness and weariness, is there still space for Christ-centered poets and their sacred verses?

The answer is a resounding yes. The poet’s heart overflows with symbolic “gems” mined from Scripture—diamonds of purity and clarity, rubies of passionate fire, emeralds of piercing hope, malachite of steadfast endurance through storms, and rhodochrosite of tender, rose-like mercy. These represent every kind of poetry drawn from “God’s magnificent words,” treasured eternally.

Even if earthly doors close or the world rejects such work, the true audience is the Blessed Trinity—Father (who spoke light into being), Son (the living Word incarnate), and Spirit (who breathes life into the lifeless). Heaven’s courts weigh and delight in every line offered upward.

In this sin-sick world, where darkness reigns,
And weary hearts grow faint beneath the load,
Is there still room for poets’ sacred strains—
Christ-centered voices on the narrow road?

Hearts brimming full with diamonds pure and bright,
With rubies fierce in passion’s holy flame,
Emeralds of hope that pierce the endless night,
Malachite steadfast through the tempests’ claim,
Rhodochrosite, rose-tender mercy’s grace—
Gems of poetry in every hue and kind,
Drawn from the treasury of God’s own face,
His magnificent words, forever enshrined.

Yes, there is still a place! The page lies wide,
Journals unfold like empty tombs at dawn,
The hungry seek the light you hold inside,
And weary souls find breath when hope is drawn.

Yet even if the world should turn away,
And doors be barred against the songs we sing,
My audience endures through night and day—
Our blessed Trinity, eternal King:
The Father who first spoke the light to be,
The Son, the living Word in flesh arrayed,
The Spirit breathing life where none could see—
In heaven’s courts, your every line is weighed.

So poets of the Holy Bible, stand!
Arise and write, let verses freely flow.
Each jewel offered upward by your hand
Shines undimmed in the courts where glories grow.

The darkness cannot quench this radiant fire;
Hope gleams eternal, polished, set in light.
Your words are treasured, lifted ever higher—
Write on, dear poet, in His pure delight!