Poems About Faith and Hope

The Earth

Suspended in the void of space,
A mote of dust is seen.
And from a million miles away,
Cassini films that ball of clay,
Where worlds and moons convene.

That sphere, a globe of ocean blue
And lands of verdant green,
Is still the one that we call “home,”
But man has sought the stars to roam—
To find a world unseen.

And in this world, they hope they'll find
Abodes of ceaseless peace.
They fear the earth will meet its end,
But this they fail to comprehend:
That life will never cease.

The raging wars have marred the earth,
Like acne on a face.
And yet, the earth continues on,
Despite the obvious damage done,
Sustaining life with grace.

The earth forever stands to last—
A marble seen from space.
It will remain forevermore
Because our God, who made it, swore
It would remain in place.

Ecclesiastes 1:4; Proverbs 2:20, 21; Psalm 37:29
Image by ALV - AI generated
Poetic form: Quintain

© 2025, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Exodus

When Jacob's sons stood by the shore,
They sobbed in Moses' ears.
They all believed that they would die,
And so began the tears.

A wall of water loomed ahead;
How would they cross the sea?
Behind them, chariots shook the ground,
But nowhere could they flee.

This faithless cry made Moses sad,
Yet God would have a say.
Then Moses lifted up his arms,
For God would make the way.

A sudden wind then pierced the sea,
And water drew aside.
The nation gasped as land appeared;
They saw the ground had dried.

They then commenced to walk across
The land beneath the sea.
And through the night, they marched along
To where they would be free.

But once they crossed the parted sea,
They looked behind and saw
That Pharaoh's army had advanced,
And they could not withdraw.

But God exhaled to crash the walls,
Which made the waters dance
Atop the Pharaoh's charging horde,
And they had not a chance.

Their enemies were now beneath
A multitude of waves.
Then Jacob's sons broke out in songs
To praise the One who saves.

The nation of Israel's exodus from Egypt is a faith-building historical event, showing that God's hand is not short and that he will protect his people.

Image by CharlVera via Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Ballad

© 2025, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Genesis

There once began an angel's want
When he beheld the dawn of man;
He yearned to be a god to them,
And so one day he birthed a plan.

His arrogance had made him blind
To all the times he had been blessed
To walk before the throne of God;
With radiant light he had been dressed.

Before him walked a perfect man;
From Adam's rib arose a wife.
The angel sought to sway her mind,
Presenting thoughts that led to strife.

With impious words, he told a lie,
For which he paid a heavy price.
The man and woman fell from grace
And lost their home, a paradise.

However, God revealed the path
For man's return from sin and death.
He sent his son to pay the price,
Redeeming all with his last breath.

As for the angel renegade,
Whose place is now a cave with bars,
He has been cast from light to night
And lost his place among the stars.

This poem recounts humanity's fall from perfection and God's purpose to redeem man from his fallen state. It demonstrates God's love, compassion, and undeserved kindness.

Image by ALV - AI generated
Poetic form: Quatrain

© 2025, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Blind Perception

When Webb's inquiring eye began its search,
It lifted veils to show the farthest light.
And now that man has reached the highest perch,
He can observe the stars beyond the night.

A random cause is all that they can see,
And thus they praise the god of happenstance.
They laud their deity with fickle glee,
Failing to note who built the vast expanse.

What is revealed to them is just a glance
Inside the hand of one they can't conceive.
They credit all that Webb displays to chance,
The non-existent god to whom they cleave.

Though they perceive what lies beyond the sky,
They blind their inner eye and chase the lie.

What the Webb telescope has revealed is awe-inspiring. Sadly, though, many will attribute the complexity found in the vastness of the universe to mere chance, failing to acknowledge even the possibility of a masterful designer behind what is observed. With this poem, I explore the theme of science versus faith and how people interpret the universe through a lens of skepticism while crediting what they see to luck or chance.

Isaiah 40:12, 25, 26; Job 26:14; Psalm 8:3, 4; 14:1; 19:1
Image by NASA - Webb Deep Field Image
Poetic form: Sonnet

© 2023, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Webb

Beyond the vast and empty sky,
Where darkness dwells forever wide,
The eye arrives to question, "Why?"

The universe has long denied
A distant glimpse to those below
Who seek to see where stars collide.

But now the eye can help them know
The stars the heavens never showed
And share with them their splendid glow.

And so they'll see the night explode
With galaxies beyond what shows,
A part of space where time has slowed.

The eye unfolds from its repose
And peers inside the Maker's hand
To understand what heaven knows.

It then reveals a starry band
Beyond what man can comprehend,
Yet held within a grain of sand.

I read an article on NASA’s website about WEBB’s deepest infrared image of “a tiny sliver of the vast universe,” which is described as “approximately the size of a grain of sand held at arm’s length.” Yet, within that small area, there are thousands of galaxies! It is simply astonishing and awe-inspiring. It moved me to write this poem.

Isaiah 40:12, 25, 26; Psalm 8:3, 4; 19:1
Inspired by a NASA Article
Image by NASA - Webb Deep Field Image
Poetic form: Terza Rima

© 2023, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Scarlet Beast

The tempest surges from the sea—
The sea of humankind.
And from that storm appears a beast
That had been thought to be deceased;
With kings it has aligned.

And on its back, a harlot rides;
She's dressed in purple-red.
She orders all to stand behind
The loathsome beast, where they will find
An end to days of dread.

O Babylon, how blind you are;
The beast will be your death!
It will cast down your wicked crown
And tear away your crimson gown;
So ends your sinful breath.

But then the beast will meet its end
When Armageddon starts.
Unending peace will come from God,
For mankind's rulership is flawed
And fueled by wayward hearts.

And finally, when all is done,
We'll see a wondrous dawn!
The scarlet beast will be no more,
Not even wars nor men who roar;
The wicked ones are gone!

Revelation 17:5, 16; 19:1,2; Psalm 37:9-11, 29
Image Image by ALV - AI generated
Poetic form: Quintain

© 2023, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

My Humble Plea

To you, I turn, O Sovereign One,
To plead that I complete my run
As I adhere to your decree.
Jehovah, hear my humble plea.

I beg of you, my strength, renew,
That I may prove myself to you,
To flee from badness I may see;
Jehovah, hear my humble plea.

Sustain my faith and courage, too,
As I await what will be new—
A paradise where death won't be.
Jehovah, hear my humble plea.

O God, please help me see your ways
And guide my steps on darkened days,
The times I fall and bruise my knee.
Jehovah, hear my humble plea.

I vow to you, Almighty God,
Your name eternally to laud
And not befriend the roaring sea.
Jehovah, hear my humble plea.

Each night I bare my heart in prayer,
Acknowledging the sins I bear,
For I have faith you care for me
And that you'll hear my humble plea.

Psalm 83:18; Isaiah 42:8; Isaiah 12:2; 2 Corinthians 4:7
Image by Joshua Earle via Unsplash
Poetic form: Quatrain - Kyrielle

© 2022, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Night Will End

I've heard the groans of men who suffer wrong;
I've read injustice penned by those who rule;
I've felt the pain of children's muffled cries
And of the poor exploited by the cruel.

The meek are weak, declares the howling crowd,
While manly attributes are loathed and mocked.
Such ones impugn the standards set by God
And flaunt the prurient morals they concoct.

No man can hope to rule a peaceful world;
No man can ever raze the woes they sowed;
No man can bring an end to ceaseless wars;
No man can keep from death the payment owed.

I have renounced the wisdom of the world
And all the carnal mores they have designed.
I stand with those who walk the narrow road,
Who yearn to one day leave this world behind.

Revelation 17:5, 16; 19:1,2; Psalm 37:9-11, 29
Image by jplenio via Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain

© 2022, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Storm Has Passed

One early day I walked a path
A storm had topped with snow.
Though winter lessened in her wrath,
The wind that traced the aftermath
Had slapped my face with ice in tow—
Her wintry grip to show.

I heard a voice amid the gale
As winter slowed her dance.
It echoed through the falling hail
And sounded like a mournful wail,
Which freed me from a frigid trance.
I chanced a wary glance.

I heard it say, “Forget the past,
The pages that have turned.
The ink has faded; time has passed.
Your holding on will only cast
Continued pain you have not earned.
But save what you have learned.”

I weighed the words, then looked around
To share my thankful glee.
Despite my search, no one was found.
I looked toward the snowy ground;
No footprints 'round that I could see,
But ones left there by me.

This poem delves into the need to start the healing process by letting go of a painful past. Clinging to bad memories might unfavorably affect our attitude and behavior. Letting go is not simple, but it will enable us to face a positive future and overcome crippling regrets.

Revelation 17:5, 16; 19:1,2; Psalm 37:9-11, 29
Image by Darran Shen via Unsplash
Poetic form: Sexain

© 2022, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Guide My Steps

Like David's heart, my own is crushed;
I've waited here for friends to care.
But I'm alone, a trampled reed;
In tears, I turn to you in prayer.

Oh, mercy be the hand you show;
May words of comfort flow from you.
Renew my strength, for I am weak;
Refresh my soul like morning dew.

Instill in me a loyal heart,
And help me always guard its door,
For I do hate the froward deeds
Of those whom worldly ways adore.

Extend your hand, take hold of mine,
And guide my steps away from there.
Infuse my soul with fortitude;
I beg of you in my despair.

This poem revolves around deep feelings of despair and the longing for divine comfort and strength in times of emotional turmoil. In it, I express a sense of isolation and vulnerability, like David during his many trials, as well as a longing for God's guidance and protection from worldly temptations.

Isaiah 41:10; Isaiah 57:15; Psalm 31:7; Psalm 34:18; Psalm 51:17; Psalm 145:18
Image by Jackson David via Unsplash
Poetic form: Quatrain

© 2022, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Road To Life

This darkened world calls out to me;

The wicked join in its decree.

A constant peal of bells resounds,

Inviting man to impious grounds.

A harlot rides a fearsome beast;

Her thirst for red has not decreased.

Unknown to most, her end is near;

She'll soon be stunned with horrid fear.

The wider road is full of strife;

The narrow road will lead to life.

I turn my back on pleading cries,

Rejecting myths and endless lies.

I aim to reach the finish line

And see a world of God's design.

Matthew 7:13, 14
Image by jplenio via Pixabay
Poetic form: Couplet

© 2021, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Great Tribulation

As man has reached his darkest night—
A time of evil, death, and blight—
A tribulation heads his way,
Yet he ignores the looming fright.

Recall the ones from Noah's day
Who sought a life of ease and play.
But then the rain came pouring down
And swept that wicked world away.

Unveil your eyes and look around;
You'll see a godless, evil frown.
Do not forget when angels strayed
And many bowed to Satan's crown.

The eight who lived remained unswayed
By those who mocked and disobeyed.
Embrace your hope and guard your faith;
You'll see the day for which you've prayed.

Image by Schäferle2 via Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Rubaiyat

© 2021, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

A New World

I have observed a world of dread,
Where children beg for crumbs of bread.
I see the poor in tattered clothes;
They fear the days that lie ahead.

I see how crowds, in angry throes,
Commence assaults with fatal blows—
The mobs that surge like ocean waves
To silence those whom they oppose.

I also see the plight of slaves,
Whose hopes and dreams are cast in graves,
The grisly wars that butcher men,
And endless lies from ruthless knaves.

I will not see these things again,
For they will end—not if, but when.
Then humankind will be at peace,
And all the earth will cry, “Amen!”

I pray and wait for that release,
When greed and hatred end and cease.
I gaze and smile at what's to come—
A paradise of joyous ease.

Image by PublicDomainPictures via Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Rubaiyat

© 2021, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Alone With Silence

She stands by me this somber day,
An overcast one full of gray.
I glance at people walking by;
They seem perplexed and far away.

Their world and life have gone awry,
Where wrong is right and low is high.
They fear a future they don't know;
It seems their minds keep asking, “Why?”

Around the world are cries of woe
From mighty kings and those below.
A scourge has marred their daily scene,
Where death has aimed a fatal blow.

Pandemics, wars, and things obscene
Have plagued what was for them routine.
And now, they feel a vague unease,
A nagging doubt from things unseen.

I sense a gentle gliding breeze
And note the sigh along the trees.
The leaves are roused at its command
But soon return to rest at ease.

As evening walks across the land,
And time has passed like grains of sand,
I bow my head in earnest prayer,
While bashful silence holds my hand.

The COVID-19 pandemic significantly impacted daily life. My job required me to interact with many people daily, so I saw firsthand their struggle during this difficult time. I wrote this poem at the onset of the pandemic's second year, recalling the prophesies from long ago.

Image by ALV - AI generated
Massachusetts State Poetry Society 2021 Arthur (Skip) Potter Memorial Contest - 2nd Place
Poetic form: Quatrain - Rubaiyat

© 2021, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Hold Fast, You Brave Ones!

The Northern King awakens from his rest
And brings a siege upon a lowly crowd.
He storms the humble homes of the oppressed
And seeks to silence men who can't be cowed.

Behind him stands the dragon, filled with rage;
He knows his kingship has approached its end.
He spurs the Northern King to take the stage,
To crush the ones whose faith he's failed to bend.

Though fear may course their veins as they hold fast,
They are prepared to wield God's word in hand.
And though the dragon's force is great and vast,
Jehovah's angels swarm like grains of sand.

Hold fast, you brave ones! Don't relax your hand!
For soon you'll see God's army take its stand!

Ephesians 6:16, 17; 2 Kings 6:16, 17
Songs: Give Me Courage Never Alone With Eyes of Faith
Image by ALV - AI generated
Poetic form: Sonnet

© 2020, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The Choice

A lightless angel reaches out to me
And says a path of plenty can be mine.
And all I have to do is turn the key,
Then enter through a door of his design.

He claims I can enjoy a better life
And that the path I walk can be replaced.
He promises I will not suffer strife
And that his road is wide and amply spaced.

But I will not pursue what I can see,
For that would leave me blind to what's divine.
The narrow road will yield the valid key
To enter through the door of God's design.

Beware of him who sows deceptive scenes
To steal your precious hope by guileful means.

Matthew 7:13, 14; 2 Corinthians 11:14; 1 Peter 5:8; Ephesians 6:11
Image by Vinotecarium via Pixabay
Poetic form: Sonnet

© 2020, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

The King of The North

Be warned, O haughty Northern King,
Your time will come to pass!
You now have trampled holy ground
To scourge the lowly class.

You brandish weapons forged by hand
To threaten peaceful men
And all the women you condemn
With lashes from a pen.

Observe their faces, Northern King;
Their joy you will not crush.
Your army strives to silence them;
Their mouths, you will not hush.

Like swarms of locusts, they proceed
Unitedly to laud
The One whose army you will face;
Jehovah is their God!

You are so warned, O Northern King;
Your actions are unwise.
They won't retreat, and you will see
God's army fill the skies!

Who is "the King of the North" today
Image by AgnieszkaMonk via Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Ballad Stanza

© 2020, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Strength To Cope

Infuse in me the strength to cope,

To lean on you when storms approach.

Please search my heart, in you, I hope;

Infuse in me the strength to cope.

For words, at times, I seem to grope,

But earnest prayers, you won't reproach.

Infuse in me the strength to cope,

To lean on you when storms approach.

Facing The Storms

The waves dilate as darkened clouds expand.
A woeful soul observes the nearing storm.
He sees the gloomy sky extend its hand
And feels the cresting waves toward him swarm.

What hope is there beyond what he can see
When he is near the arms of waiting death?
With trembling lips, he cries an urgent plea
And begs Jehovah God to spare his breath.

His sobs accompany his teary eyes
As he falls to his knees again to pray.
Lifting his anguished eyes toward the skies,
He finds the strength he needs to make his way.

When mounting storms assail your precious hope,
Beseech the One who grants the strength to cope.

See With Eyes of Faith

The signs that those with eyes can't see
Abound throughout the earth.
They're noted in the many wars
That bring despair to birth.

Diseases scourge the young and old
As famine walks about.
And men of faith are shown disdain
By crowds that feed on doubt.

These were foretold to mark our time
As signs of dreadful days
When mankind would assail the truth
And seek their selfish ways.

Why won't they see these lucid signs
Yet cling to blatant lies?
They slander God, whom they despise—
The path to their demise.

Though others may ignore the signs,
We know God's word is light.
And so we see the prophecies
With faith, which gives us sight.

So firmly guard your precious faith,
For he who brought the lie
Will tempt a weakened heart to doubt
And cause his hope to die.

Exert yourself to reach the prize—
The day we've longed to see!
And we will live forevermore—
So joyous we will be!

The Cell Tells

Unwise are those who mask the truth with lies,
Who claim that life arose from lifeless ooze.
They choose to see with Darwin's blinded eyes
And fail to note creation's many clues.

They mock the thought that life had guiding hands—
That God designed and breathed life into man.
To chance, they kneel and bow as ardent fans,
Insisting that is how all life began.

The humble human cell cries out to them
To seek and search within its guarded halls,
For there they'll find the truth that will condemn
The lies retold and carved on wobbly walls.

God's wondrous work is viewed with covered eyes
While sipping barren brew distilled with lies.

The Ability of Cells to Specialize
Amazing Flagellum : Michael Behe and the Revolution of Intelligent Design
The Inner Life of the Cell Animation
Image by qimono via Pixabay
Poetic form: Sonnet

© 2019, Angel L. Villanueva. All rights reserved.

Spiritual Warfare

I bear the scars from battles I have fought;
I've fallen to my knees while pressing on.
At times, my will to fight has waned to naught;
I've felt I lacked the strength to see the dawn.

The fallen one proclaims that I have lost
And laughs at all the errors I have made.
He taunts that I should cede, for I've been tossed,
Asserting I'm alone, that there's no aid.

But I recall the mercy God has shown
When I have failed to guard my gated door.
I know that in this war I'm not alone,
And so I wield the sword as angels soar.

The love that God has shown has led the way.
I'll fight until the end; my vow, I'll pay.

Come, See

Come, see a world where peace will reign
And humankind is free from pain,
Where humble ones are full of joy
And beasts obey a mere young boy.

Come see a world of joyful peace,
Where hate and enmity will cease,
Where youthful vigor flows within
And no more wrinkles plague the skin.

Come, see the blind regain their sight;
The mute sing songs with sheer delight;
The deaf hear voices once concealed;
The former lame traverse a field.

Come, see that death cannot enslave
The ones God calls back from the grave.
The joy of seeing loved ones rise
Will fill their hearts with joyous cries.

I know the things you see are true;
Not man, but God, will see them through.
Come, join the throng you warmly view;
Eternal life can be yours, too.

Have Faith

A dreadful giant rose from fearful lands
To mock the battle lines of Jacob's sons.
He held a shield and lance with mighty hands;
With them, he threatened God's appointed ones.

Great fear had gripped the men who held the line;
Before them stood a foe of frightful might.
The soldiers failed to trust the One Divine,
The One whose hand would send their foes to flight.

A child then strode to meet the giant's dare,
But only with his faith and little stones.
He offered praise to God and said a prayer,
Then hurled a rock to break Goliath's bones.

He flung a little stone with faith in God,
The One whose arm arose to break the rod.

Babylon The Great

The earthly kings prepare to go to war
To bring an end to Babylon the Great.
She has been ruling since the days of yore,
But swift will be the fall from her estate.

They will expose her sins and grievous deeds—
The wicked acts that stain her garish gown.
The beast she rides will rise to end her creeds,
And she'll receive no aid when trampled down.

Yet brief will be that dark and fearsome day;
The loyal will reveal with whom they stand.
It will not be the kings whom they'll obey;
Instead, they'll yield to God's almighty hand.

O sinful Babylon, your end is near!
So sip your last red wine, then quake with fear.

Velvet Sky

A hint of velvet drapes the evening sky
As countless distant stars begin to rise.
I smile at what I see, and then I sigh;
This wondrous scene enchants my aging eyes.

The waking ocean breeze begins her dance;
Her fingers graze my face—a tender kiss.
I gaze in awe at this ornate expanse,
Then bashful silence joins the scenic bliss.

But then I grasp how life is brief in time,
And so, with tears, my eyes begin to well.
And yet, I know one day I'll reach my prime,
Right here on earth, where man will always dwell.

The splendor of creation shares with me
A glimpse of paradise—one day to be.

God's Arms

It was a day that tore her heart,
For her grief was too great to bear.
She lost her longtime mate in death,
And now she copes by means of prayer.

Her puffy eyes well up with tears,
And then she bows her head to pray.
She pleads to God to give her strength
And be her guide along the way.

As she cries out upon her bed,
A wave of calmness soothes her heart,
For she has sensed a gentle touch,
Which also makes her pain depart.

Jehovah heard her pleas and reached
To clear away the pain that harms.
He gently wipes away her tears
As he cradles her in his arms.

One Day

There is a haze of gloom around the world
That veils the eyes from seeing what is true.
The lie unleashed in Eden has unfurled—
A lie no sinful man can e'er undo.

That lie has led the heart to sin's allure,
Beguiling all who seek their selfish wants.
Deluded, man has strayed to what's impure
And fails to see the lie the devil flaunts.

But there is one whom God has placed as King;
With lasting peace, he'll reign in paradise.
And death no longer will employ its sting,
For Christ has fully paid the ransom price.

One day, we'll raise our eyes in tears and see
A paradise as promised—you and me.

Doomsday Clock

The doomsday clock advances, nearing death.
These darkened days have led to ebbing hope.
The minutes tick toward a final breath,
Or so it seems to those who try to cope.

The clock has ticked while men let hatred blaze.
They have forgone all urgent calls for peace.
They seek to mime the sun's consuming gaze,
Despite the fact that human life could cease.

But soon, their hate and virulence will end,
And those who worship war will be no more.
A promised dawn of lasting peace will mend
The hearts of all upon whom blessings pour.

The answer does not lie with foolish men,
Where hatred dwells and multiplies by ten.

Despair and hope in the face of human conflict are what I attempt to capture with this poem, particularly as it centers around the ominous concept of the "doomsday clock," symbolizing impending catastrophe as a result of mankind's choices. To most, the world seems to be spiraling toward doom, but there is genuine hope for rebirth and peace.

I Await

I was a child when, from my bed,
I called out to you,
For I had dreamt of a life of void,
Where I no longer was.
No existence, nothingness,
Was what haunted my dream.
Fear, utterly gloomy and numbing,
Embraced me, its coldness reaching
Into the deepest part of my being.
But that fear—that agonizing fear—
You removed from me
And replaced it with hope.
It is a wondrous hope!
This hope is one of endless life.
It is not one that fades away
Like the mist of an early morning.
That wonderful gift of eternal life
Is like the one Adam squandered
When he selfishly chose
To turn his back on you.
It's been years since that night,
Yet that hope still burns within me.
I know you will bring
Your promises to fruition.
Your words of comfort
Will not go unfulfilled.
Until then, I patiently wait,
No longer in fear,
No longer a terrified child
Crying on his bed,
But a man, a gray-headed man,
Who awaits your call.

Enduring Faith