Monday, May 16, 2011

I am most ill at a rhymin and stealin.


Patience, Master.

R A B B I what has happened to you? they've turned you into some monstrous god,

set you upon your knees in tears as they draw and quarter your message of peace.

-and when you cried out that you'd been forsaken, perhaps some ugly vision of the future had graced your strained presence. And still you asked for our forgiveness, claiming that we knew not what we did. And I fear you sinned there on the cross, as tears fell from your warm eyes, you told childish lies to our father, hoping to protect us all from our due punishment. But teacher, how do we learn to walk the righteous path, if you wont let us stumble and fall as we crawl so slowly towards you? Have faith lord, moths always stumble towards false light in darkness, but one day we'll learn the difference.

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