A man spoke,
a whisper to one ear,
“Don’t love those
that cast on you
their unjust truths,
but hate because
they are attracted
to those foul
and uncouth.”
He continues,
as rage now implants
its warranted poison.
Justice replaces sanity
and detest erases
life’s enjoyment.
“If you shoot,
aim for your reasons
it doesn’t matter
who wears them.
Your avenged soul
is what beckons
the just bullet
that condemns him.”
Now on fire,
a flame tempted
only to consume,
a once subtle soul-
misplaced in its burning,
injustice resumes.
“I’ve won,
don’t you see,
the One that
cast me away.
Now I, the fallen,
cast all who
once loved You
astray.
For with nothing more
than a whisper,
I turn man
against man
making each think falsely
they have reason
to stand.”
God did answer him,
while He watched
from above.
In History,
there will always be
mere whispers on said lines.
But I send one
who preaches
History can always
be redefined.
Children will always fight
perhaps even led astray,
but I believe in the end,
they will each find their way.
I will wait and pray
and never stop seeking
the lost sheep.
No matter how lost
they deserve
every tear
I now weep.
To every child of Mine
know that I am here,
and I will forever
feed misled histories
with that which is kind.
My children,
this hand will never
offer that which is severe
no - forgiveness
is always given
to those who shed
but one tear.
So go whisper
to troubled ears
and lie to fraught lips.
For they only provide
to My beloved
nothing more than
a brief sip.
Through you,
they will remain thirsty
and long for more drink.
My son and I
are forever there
to quench what you
fruitlessly try to sink.
You tout being a thief,
but you only provide
brevity in your
tempted saves
of injustice and grief.
I desire but one thing
for every sinner’s borrow-
to eternally transform
that oppression and sorrow.