The Untold Story

There once was a writer who knew what was true,
A story so honest that it burned right on through.
It kept gripping his heart and speaking to his mind,
But he left it unwritten, and so it remained blind.

It whispered at midnight. It stirred during the day.
“Now is the time to write. Please don’t delay.”
But fear wrapped around him, both heavy and tight.
The silence grew louder each time he didn’t write.

“Oh, maybe tomorrow,” he said with a sigh.
Opportunities waved as they drifted on by.
The pages stayed empty. The pen was at rest,
While a voice said his story deserved his best.

Our stories aren’t idle. They won’t simply fade.
They press and they push to be written and made.
But when they are buried, sadly hidden from sight,
They’ll weigh on the soul in the still of the night.

You see, it’s not only the lies that we spin,
But truth left untold that is counted as sin.
To know what is needed and still turn away
Is missing the words we were meant to convey.

So write what is honest, though trembling you start.
Let truth find its voice through the ink of your heart.
For stories are gifts that you’re called to release—
And writing them well is obedience… and peace.