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blackpowderfox Aug 2015
Someone help!
     I sold my soul for a song that I cannot hear, a meal that I cannot eat, an end that I cannot see. My heart is aching! I regret my choice, I sought to make my past undone. Alas, I've left the realm of life; I lie in the dust of death. I cannot reach beyond my corpse, my soul is gone...devoured. I lie here dead, unable yet to call for help. Who is willing to take my place? To give their soul to purchase mine? Is there none with love enough to save a fool like me? Look! Beside me now stands the dead! But a moment ago a corpse, that one stands alive with soul anew! And now he kneels with hand outstretched, his lips alight with words that bounce and fly away. I cannot hear him, my ears are blocked by this dust, this death. One word, unlike the others, is sharp and pointed. It does not seek my ears for entrance, this is far and above the most blessed of treasures. It pierces through my chest, straight into my heart it plunges! The pain!
     This Word does not excuse me, nor does it accuse me; it cleaves me clean in two, beyond my heart and deeper than my vacant soul. Love. This is not a love that I can understand! What kind of love has the power to create life where death and hate have reigned unchecked? Who is this love? What name can I call it by? How can I respond? Through my despair and past my deafness I hear His name, higher than any other. Jesus! With muted lips and vacant soul, my broken heart cries out! Please save me from my past; it screams against me, condemns me, lays out my guilt spread bare. Can this name silence something this loud and honest? It already has. All of my accusers are gone, the silence of this moment is beyond all I have ever known.
"Come forth."
What is this! The very dust of death, the gates of Hell, have split wide! No longer do I lie still and empty, deaf and blind; I see and hear, I dance and fly! My soul pours forth with a love I can neither understand nor contain, I am whole. The Maker of Earth, the Author of Truth, the One who spoke existence into being has paid the price, bought back my soul. My ears are filled with truth, my mouth with songs unending. My eyes now see what lay before them, always it was here. No longer do I hunger, no longer can I thirst, a soul that is not my own flows from a well of life that cannot end. In every way, I live. I do not fear my end; it no longer holds me, it cannot touch me. The flood of Life through Christ has washed it past the borders of being. I live without end, without fear. The well of life pours out from the Spirit living inside me. I cannot die. Come, won't you stand with me? Won't you be pierced by the Love of God? Let Jesus open the gates of Hell for you and carry you out of death. Come and know the peace of eternal life found in the joy of Christ.
I know it doesn't rhyme, I'm sorry.
I'm a follower of Christ and have found life in Him.
I wish for others to know what I have found.
If this offends you, know that I speak from personal conviction and do not condemn you in any way for not holding to my beliefs.

— The End —