Pierced and nailed to a tree, the most precious blood that there will ever be ran down to earth. Many looked and ask why this must be, but the blood must flow you see. Upon the alter was placed a perfect lamb, without spot or blemish was the son of man. When the sacrifice was made sin knew it had to go. The powers of hell were shaken salvation was given. So though it may seem like an awful fate for salvations sake, let the blood of the lamb flow.

On a cold and bleak morning the crowed gathered to Jeer. They did not want the innocent but the guilty to be set free. Though not long ago, they had wondered at his miracles, for now this is how it must be. Set free the murderer and hang the innocent on a tree. Beaten wounded and battered, he gave up his life for you and me. Then hanging on a rugged cross, the innocent carpenter built one last thing. He took the rough boards and 3 nails of the cross and made a bridge between God and man.

The sun shines on the grass and trees. The flowers bloom and the birds sing. Yet all I can do is be somber and weep for there is no joy for me. While others are relishing in the warmth of a Mid Summers day, I am nursing a broken heart and cannot find much joy. I weep morning noon and night, my soul torn to shreds by you. So while you are off enjoying a tropical paradise, I will be here weeping the tears of summer because you left me so empty and alone.

The lights flicker in a now dimly lit room. The echoes of music resonate from with in the walls. Table cloths stained with memories lay on forgotten tables. The door is closed and the silence closes in. The good times are now all but over and the reality of life comes crashing in. There were never really any true friends on acquaintances that came and then went. When there is nothing in life left to celebrate, you are left alone with your own thoughts. When all of the guest are gone, you must now sit and weigh the cost.

In an ugly vase that shouldn't be in my living room. There used to be a bouquet of flowers that would brighten up the room. The Petunias or Daffodils would conflict with the vase, but when she entered the room, it always made her smile . She bought the ugly thing at a quaint little second hand store. Down in the little village where we liked to walk and explore. She was an adventurous soul, but I was to selfish and  afraid. I was to concerned with the worldly things and did not see the treasure I had. Now that she is gone, I just sit here sad. With the four walls of my mansion surrounded by my gold. Oh how I wish I could have those flowers back and the love she put into our little home.

The sun beats down on the back of your neck, the road steams in front of you. You drink water trying to get relief, but it just steams off of you. It is so hot that you cannot even sweat, under a burning summer sun. If you think this is hot, won't hell be a lot of fun.

Leaves fall from trees and lie on the cold ground. Poets and Kings are laid in tombs. The Earth brings forth new things and the old things wither away. The Earth Embraces all that came from it. In everything there is a season. No thing has in mortality, even the Earth itself is torn and Reborn. If not for all things having an end, then there would be no new beginnings. It is in this that we hope Beyond ourselves and the Mortal life that we live.