And just because he didn't know what it was
that doesn't mean he never felt it
He'll remember it for the rest of his life
He'll get glimpses of it in people he falls in love with
Otherwise he won't fall in love
I hope his heart doesn't sink at the thought
I hope the nostalgia that comes with it makes him smile
God, I wish him so much happiness
He saved me from myself
He was the idea of a God come true
He denied me what I wanted, knowing
it was not what I needed
I will forever be grateful for the stars that brought us together
and pulled us apart when we got too close
Now I know when to set my heart free
and when to simply let it be
God bless his soul and those of the hearts that recognise his beauty

Why do we glory
in the death of
a Saviour?

Did He die
so we could live in vain?
Did He die
for our gain?

Why give Your life
for theirs
When they still
live in the transgressions
that You payed for,
the very same sins
that killed You?

Why glory upon
the death of
the Saviour?
Was His sacrifice
for nothing?

Why do we slave over
the image of
a dead Man on
that tree?

Why do we have to
offer sacrifices
at the altar,
when One sacrifice is
all it needs?

Why do we glory
upon the death
of the Saviour?

Shouldn't it remind us
of the glory
of dying to ourselves
so we could live?

Hasn't He resurrected?
If He still lives
why treat Him
like a dead man?

Remember then
when He comes again
and when we
tremble upon
not the death but
the life
of a righteous
Judge.

Repent.
Do not glory
in your sins.
Don't be complacent
just because a price was paid;
there is more you need to sacrifice
for the sake of your soul.

Why glory
in the death of
the Saviour?
No, instead
watch the glory
of the living God.

Through the light of day,
I see over the mountains,
I see the rich colours around me,
I see the vibrancy,
I see the light of day itself.

Is it really that pure?

So instead I wait for night.

I can’t see past the mountains, but why look?
Empty colours surround me.
I don’t see the filter; the alleged purity.

Overwhelmed, the context assaults me.
Darkness lances into me.
I yell. I writhe -

in my bleeding innocence, await salvation. “Saviour!” He escapes me.

“The light of day will save.”

I see the purity ****** itself down in beams.
I see the warmth on my body.
I see the good people.
But still, I see no succour.

I decide not to see, but to look.

I look for the humanity in purity, only blemishes are forthcoming.

Humanity, you have failed me.

So much of it still remains unwritten
What’s stopping you? Afraid of not getting a ten?
Every story, every verse, deserves to be entertained
For the elegance of words is yet to be measured
Unlike the outer beauty, measured in millihelens

So what are you waiting for? Grab a pen!
Undress your thoughts for only you can
The darkness of your mind is for you to conquer and comprehend
For the ones around you can’t penetrate your mind, a lion’s den
Retreat now and be deprived of the seventh heaven

No matter how well the art of climbing you have mastered
Don’t abandon the possibility of a fall
For the brightest of the light beams on interference
Do produce a dark patch on the wall

Every moment of despair is as insignificant as an ink blot
Join them all on a canvas and you have the synopsis of a great plot

Every dot, so telling, shall draw their attention  
Like light into a black hole
Maybe then you won’t be afraid of seclusion
Because from then on, words shall be your saviour, once and for all.

Peace, happiness, security-
we reach for these,
but they often
slip from our grasp
as life
             wreaks

                         its

                          havoc

                           ­    on

                               our

                             hearts,
                             and we hit bottom.

Chaos                         around
              flutters
our
                    heads      ­             bats
                       like

worries crowd in and fill our ears eyes and lungs until they're our every waking moment and we can't breathe as they surround us,

and loss,
coming and going in a flash,
takes us out at the knees,
rips someone from their place
in our hearts,
and leaves us
b  r  o  k  e  n
on the ground
with no way out...

Until

a still, small voice
beckons you
out
of your pain;
the whisper
of a Father who
promises
love,
peace,
and an end to the darkness.*

His arms encircle you,
His presence fills you,
His love hushes your pain,
like a mother quieting her child,
changing your tears
of heartache
to those
of awe
that this kind of love
should not only
simply
exist,
but be given to you.
And on the heels of love
comes *peace.

Electricity-
searing through
every vein,
body brimming with
voltage, head to toe,
lightning
that strikes
every nerve simultaneously;
blinding, white hot pain
-
then blackness.

Flames-
the piercing spasms
of ten thousand sunburns,
combined with
the unbearable heat
of smothering summer darkness
licks slowly
up
       up
              up
your legs,
choking, choking
on dry smoke
and the ash of your own body;
screams, melting flesh, can't breathe, can't breathe,
-
then blackness.

Nails-
cleaving wrists
and feet,
invasive, bone-deep,
soul-deep
pangs, aches, agony,
as they punch out the other side
and iron
meets beam,
locking limbs in places.
Then lifting,
lifting,
lifting,
until you're
finally,
horribly,
upright,
hanging by your wrists,
iron grating
and grinding
against bone,
slowly,
oh so slowly,
suffocating under your own weight,
as muscle and sinew
convert from
allies
to traitors,
turning on you,
compressing,
and eventually crushing,
your lungs;
minutes          hours                      days
-
then blackness.

Oh, humanity.
Oh, terribly, cruelly creative
humanity.
So many torturous ways
to ****,
to execute
each other.

- the chair
- the stake
- the cross
- countless, countless others
each more brutal
than the last.
Oh, humanity.

Yet somehow...

the cross left
this darkness
for light,
a symbol of hope for
millions.
Men, women, children
everywhere
draw hope from
the cross.

WHY?

Why?
Because
we know
who it has
murdered - killed - slaughtered
massacred - executed - slain
sacrificed
but didn't
destroy;
who it
failed
to defeat.
The cross
couldn't defeat
HIM.

All is dark except I see
These extended arms in front of me
They are waving, trembling
I barely have the sight to see
These open hands in front of me
They are reaching, searching
I hardly have the light to see
These stretching fingers in front of me
They are straining, grasping

As I watch, how strangely familiar I find
These arms, these hands, these fingers
What could fill them
That would still them?
As I look, I realize that they’re mine
these arms, these hands, these fingers
What could hold them
That would console them?

In this darkness, am I the only one who sees
The struggle in front of me?
It is desperate, helpless

All is numb except I feel
This empty space inside of me
It is widening, deepening
I only have the sense to feel
This growing hunger inside of me
It is pressing, aching
My nerves are acute just to feel
This enduring famine inside of me
It is agonizing, deadly

This pain worsens with the sight of
These arms, these hands, these fingers
What would occupy them
That would satisfy them?
I am feeling exhausted by the fight of
These arms, these hands, these fingers
What could nourish me
That would flourish me

In this void, am I the only one aware
Of the pain inside of me?
I am in anguish, pleading

Through the darkness, I finally see
Two different hands reaching out to me
They are calloused, scarred
Closing this void, I begin to feel
Such merciful love consuming me
It is boundless, overflowing
I find new life the moment I take
These hands that defeated death for me
It is abundant, eternal

The fullest joy He freely offers with
His arms, His hands, His fingers
His love fills me
Peace stills me
His gentleness holds me
Grace consoles me
To this joy I’ll always cling with
My arms, my hands, my fingers
His presence occupies me
Truth satisfies me
His word nourishes me
Hope flourishes me

In those depths, why was I so unaware
Of Him standing right in front of me
He is my stronghold, Deliverer