April 4, 2015

John

not mine


The Hosanna is still on our lips.
But crucify seemed sweeter to the mob.
And there he was,
my Lord,
my God,
my friend.

 They murdered Him.

And that's what they don't tell you.
You don't murder a good man.
You ignore a lunatic.

But maybe.
Just maybe.

You would murder God.

You would throw Him down before the law
and plead for cleansing
because you had no God.
You had only justice.

Oh my Lord,
my God,
my friend.

I am worst of all.

Because they say thunder follows lightning
and yet I couldn't follow you.
Golden electricity in the sky.

But the thunder quiet.

Restore.

Oh my Lord,
 please restore unto me what I have lost
and I can promise
that I think I've lost everything.

The Hosanna is still on my lips,
but the thirsty grave has stolen you from me.

Restore.

It is the second morning.

Oh my Lord,
my God,
my friend.

Come back.


xoxo





10 comments:

  1. This is amazing. Ugh, I love the coming of Easter.

    ReplyDelete
  2. He shall rise again on the third day... I can't wait for Easter!

    xoxo Morning

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh my....This is just.....I am speechless. That was so good! :) Well done Adelaide, great work.

    ReplyDelete

be kind.

xx