Monday, February 25, 2013

Strife be my Peace

I gave you these things for the good of your
Soul; to nourish your heart, and to make you whole.
I sought you, even in the dark of your
Pain; yet you sought not my face when I called
Your name. And so I turned my face,
I went my own way without you behind
Me, because you paid no attention; blind
Have you become in your wallowing death,
Unable to breathe, you have a labored
Breath that speaks to you of your burdens so
Procured for you by your sin. Hear you its
Taunting voice? Feel you its callous hands? Fits
Of rage and anger in choice manifest
Themselves, and do of you demand actions
Twofold, another choice so to speak, test
You and break you down! Sure weakness
Is a dreaded state that causes you much
Pain and suffering, for sure; but to touch
Upon such matters with more pain and such
Suffering that you cannot escape, this
Does not elevate you O foolish ape!
Rather you deepen the gauge upon your
Soul by a scythe, reap what you have sown more
Often in the flesh. Thus your spirit faints,
Your mind voices often its many complaints,
And death draws closer to you day by day.
Turn back and plead that you may be saved! Saints
Have procured such mercy from me as this
Which you now desire and need for such bliss
As you seek to obtain in these worldly
Things of power, money, and diamond rings!
What are these things to you who know life?
Why do you invite perpetuate strife?

              Strife be my Peace, (c) Luke Bennette, February 2013

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