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Why must love hurt so?

All you came to do
Was to save me.
You saw all of my afflictions
From up there, you seated
On your throne of eternal glory.
Beholding me, as a fragile one
Your compassion, you bestowed.

You couldn't leave me
Alone in my groaning.
I am your hand work,
And so you thought of saving me.
To redeem me unto you again, you came
Yes, you came down here for my salvation
Your compassion, you bestowed.

For many days you lived with me,
Dining and wining all years long.
You told me of many a thing about
Heavenly kingdom, where you came from
You told me great things to come also,
I was at peace knowing you
I was full with love so deep.

But then you told me you were leaving
Going on a journey faraway.
Going back home to where you came from,
To prepare a place for me, you said.
I had no idea what you meant,
Until they came, oh, they took you away
Away, right in front of me.

I was deeply troubled by what I saw
All because you love me, They wouldn't
Let you go, it's a sin to love the condemned.
Your pains from their whips,
Oh, I heard it all with my own ears.
Your sufferings did I witnessed,
With my own very eyes.

Still, you wouldn't give up on me
You looked at me, all I saw was love
But then, they screamed,
As a man possessed "to the cross"
Oh, why must love hurt so?
All because of me, you went through
A terrible ordeal.


At the cross, your feet and hands
They drove through with nails.
On your head, a thorny crown they present.
Mocked all day, you withstood it all
All for me, for my complete salvation
By your side a spear went through, your
Blood and water rushing out like many rivers.

To me you said, "it is finished" and lived
No more, you lived no more.
All I asked was "why must love hurt so?"
Your body to the ground
Your love to the grave
Your whole to be gone, in desolation
I remembered no word of you, how hopeless!

Two days gone by, there's nothing of you
Early third day morning, there's a rumor in town.
All my doors been shut, that there's
Nothing to life, but my neighbors won't
Stop knocking, whispering about.
I gave no attention, until I heard
"HE AROSE"

My bolt and nut, all swung lose
I'm going to the cross, to see the grave.
Your body I find not, nor your love in the mud
Unto me, my life returns
And my soul relieved.
Seeing you face to face, now I know
Why love hurt so.
Jesus died for me to have eternal life.
preston Oct 8
the forming of substance 06
Stephan W

the true nature of the beast

~
It  c h o se
to consider itself
made complete--
in its own self-- apart
from relationship,
from connection..
a p a rt  from   a n y
attachment to glory

And so,
it found itself
from with-inside itself
made complete

in its own  utter incompleteness.


~  ~
Beings-- created for
growth- back in to into glory
were built to be
made complete
and so it roams
the face of the Earth--
looking for ways to
complete itself..
an attachment.


~  ~  ~
Life, in itself
has a built-in safeguard
hedge of protection
in every-thing on Earth.

But we,
who have undergone
severe trauma
at a young age
have had that  h e d ge
torn from us
as the  d i s m em b e r i ng
of our souls took place--
and so that which roams
searching for its
addiction--
for its attachment...
then finds.

  and then attaches

lying to itself each
time--
that it can gain
t h e   f i x
the indwelt-access-
back into perfection--
the one for it
that never-was
that never will-be--
its way back into glory.

It knows that,
so it attaches
with a vengeance.


~  ~  ~  ~

You, quisling--
only the power of
deception do
you have, ******.
You do not grieve
the loss of eternity--
because, for you-
it is unobtainable. ******
You do not feel the need
for Redemption
because, you  o n ly
know the word contempt.
And yet, wholly
unable to feel self-contempt,
you only know one action--

d e v o u r.

We will transcend
your attachment

your usury..

       your devouring--

Gnawing our bodies away from our spirits..
  a   d i s m e m b e r i ng--

making us believe
that is all we have ever known;
And making our bodies
a d d i c t ed  to you-
in whatever form
that may be
as if they were
built for nothing
but  y o u--

to prop up your own emptiness.


We will  f i l l  back up
with Love.


    And then you'll be the one
    who will be ******.
    ******


Love transcends all things..
even death's attachment

03/19/17
The Dybbuk Sep 21
Forged in suffering,
and quenched by discipline,
we become strong.
A wall of swords is built
at the limits of our minds;
sometimes, we ***** ourselves,
and tumble headfirst into the
desolation of sleep.
It is no matter.
Venus will disarm Mars,
the blades will turn to roses,
a crown of blooming thorns;
entrancingly beautiful,
and twice as deadly.
Footsteps Sep 14
I know not what thou art,
   of this I must depart; of this I can impart
   a secret yet to fast; shattered weary hearts
   lay written in the sand;
   I know not what thou art,
      of this I just remarked.

I know not what thou art,
   of this I played the part; of this I can restart
   a radiant love to start; fractured little past
   lies distant in the waves;
   I know not what thou art,
      yet of this I will depart.
Elicia Hurst Sep 14
A summer dress, perhaps
deserves a summerish redress.

In the witching hour, solitude's domain,
there is naught but
I, and the white-hot eclipse for my eye.

I have one hand beneath your neck,
and another behind your knees.
In these gloves, I will drown and resurrect
my fair dress, one-and-only Sunday Best,
sodium hypochlorite cocktail mess.
My alternative hydrotherapy
is a remedy from my enemy.

You traffic through this well of hell in ease.
A fire drunken on the Lethe.
Deliquesce in clinical scents.

Your skin thrives on the purge,
but mine cannot survive.
Jul 2020
Lewis Sep 13
I walk in beauty
As if Venus has bestowed her wings on my back.
Her frolicked hair in oil paint
perhaps I am her redemption?
To seek both answer and truth
In an age without stone cut statues?

But I do not resemble the sliced abdomen of statues
and I am not gilded in beauty
nor do I tell the perfect truth.
I tend to look back,
craving redemption
illustrated in paint

My fingers tremble in paint
frozen at the canvas like a statue.
There is no point in a redemption
when I cannot see beauty.
So I learn that I will not be back
until I have learnt the truth.

And when I have learnt this truth,
so stark as oil paint,
I must make the decision to come back.
Of course I will change, for I am not a statue,
but I will be shrouded in my own beauty
for Venus will get her redemption.
We think it's gone
In better times we could have played
As weather's changed
You slipped away
Remembering those blessed days

September sun invigorates
Glimpses of glory warmed
It's riches clasp the back of neck
Absorbed in chest and flow to rest

Time be spent so look ahead
Aim to be your best throughout the test
This place is finite so be our heads
More to life than meets the end
Undefined redemption led
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Marshal Aug 30
Living in a world of stone
Darkness all around
Constant threats making you alone
Chains of hate keeping you bound

Then you heard her cries
A women of beauty
Suddenly you didn’t want to die
Deep in your heart you had found your duty

Protect the girl is what you told yourself
This girl was tantalizing and sweetness incarnate
She needed protection, nothing else
But her hair and eyes made those borders evaporate

Talking over and over
Spending days with this fair elf
A girl with skills that made her a charmer
But surely you couldn’t actually love her

Your a monster plain and simple
Every time you leave your throne of stone
Whenever they insult, you just crumple
Hiding away in the dark trying to atone

You failed before
So why wouldn’t you again
Give her back monster
You will hurt her

We are knights of a valiant order
Trusted heroes of the realm
She’ll be safe under our banner
Evil cannot penetrate our helm

Monster please come back
You were my only friend
They’re gonna execute this pyromaniac
I’m just like you monster, i’m a fiend

These knights tried to **** me
And defile my purity
But you saved me from them
Please rescue me, you were the only one that made me comfy

Time is running out my sweet orc
The axe shall soon strike
As these tears drip down my face
I can be happy that you loved me for not being ladylike

I’m not a monster
I remember who I was
All my honor was lost in the war along with my brothers
A knight of the realm who respected all laws

But I wasn’t human
An order of orc knights had to be erased from history
I survived and was scarred in mind and body
Adrift in the dark until I met that maiden

It’s alright now my little pyro
Me and you shall live together
No monster or fiend
A little elf saved from the guillotine

I love you orc
And I love you pyro
Should we run away?
Only if we do it together
A little bit of love?
Footsteps Aug 29
I. But

I have seen the future that has yet to come, I have seen what awaits in darkened corners
   and strips away balance, that what remains; an exquisite kind of agony.
I have sown a pathway that others may follow, I have sown what awaits in visionless goals
   and teases of riches, happiness, and roots; an intensely fearsome gluttony.
I have lived in opulence that defies the good book; I have lived what awaits in wasted halls
   and sings of glory, achievements, and faith; a fruitless kind of existence.
I have talked of brilliance in pride, and vanity; I have talked what awaits in morrows night
   and pulses through veins, thoughts, and fears; a faceless kind of significance.

II. And

I have come to a decision you may not like, a jaunty walk you may despise,
   a journey to define, age, and file, the rusted feet bequeathing my time.
I have come to a vision you may not see, a shapeless path you may deny,
   a chance to rewind, see, and smile, the fleeting memories of youthful rhymes.

III. Now

Midway through the murky marsh, my flailing hands still come as one
   and ask for guidance, clarity, and hope; my fallen knees reminisce in silence.
Onwards through the darkened air, my swaying joints still come to run
   and scream in sonorous, clanging tones; my fallen dreams oscillate in defiance.
Halfway through the raging river, my aching bones still come to swim
   and crash the waves, and ailing driftwood; my rotting roots yearning for balance.
Finishing through the luminous shore, my dripping wounds still come to smile
   and cut the branches, trees, and souls; my fallen morales still pining for patience.

IV. Well

The footsteps behind me are brimming with hope; a voice of reason, a hand of time
   still teaches me patience, virtues, and silence; yet shadows linger with wailing calls.
The concrete behind me is drying in peace; a door of secrets, a comedy of lies
   still reaches me silently, gnawing away nights ... just fallacies living the enemies fall!
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