Kiss the Son

The greatest crime committed by man is revealed his greatest blessing,
Yet still the atrocity of mankind rages.
A universe wrought for wonders accomplished upon a hill,
Where the world mocks her Creator.
Who does divide, and draw men’s swords from their scabbards?
Hearts cold and necks stiff —
Weakness drains the strong idol, and foolishness mocks the wise shadow:
Bend to Love’s wrath.
Reject, deny, despise! Spit upon the hand that begs for the heart.
Kiss the Son.
Gold’s sheen lost to tarnish, white spattered with the dung of corruption —
Light exposes
And hope twists upon the night, falls headlong into the pit of the abyss.
Truth.