Serated Cacophony of the Heart

Amidst the brokeness of thoughts I screamed

The execution of all that stands,

The death of all I hold dear,

Yet, as I comb the ashes, life begins to seep back to me,

For another had suffered the same grief ,

mutilated flesh on wood, innocent blood to the spit of man

Alas, I am restored now… for here is the grace of the King.

all that was barren now shall bear fruit in multitudes

all that is dead shall now be reborn in fullness,

Nothing can seperate me from this happiness,

For what is the relevance in the deadness of my world?,

of fancyness of the colours… mere show behind the decay,

How can I compare to this grace that I have now?,

a breath back to the sunken lungs of the dead,

a road back to the restoration of all thats gone.

What else is there?

Here, amidst the library of this ruin,

Of all  the eyes that blink,

Only the One above talks to me,

The law now they all uphold,

a casting of pearls to decrepidness of their own mire,

a ladder of merit is their underlying mission,

see now thier collpse in their own ultimate conceit.

So do you think it’s worth continuing,

to pretend intellignece amidst your sea of tears?

a learned man can claim the scriptures as fact

only to the emptiness of soul it proves it nothing

So is there a merit to your boast?, oh pharisee of pharsiees…

to compare the faults the other man as that,

to the equally bigger bloodstains in your  own blackened hands?

Condemn them not, o simple brother of mine,

Do not put youself in the pedestal of your grotesque pride,

For here we are… the sick of the sick, the patient in need of the doctor,

The blood was shed, not  only for a few good hundred,

But for the multitudes of the scum that is treasured by He,

Men as human as you, scars and all, the children in need of their father,

Won’t you say he loves them much…

as equally as He loves you?