Mon 5 May, 2008 03:15 pm
Imagination goes as planned, But real gets in the way. For this we look to our own hands, But truth force-ably stays. In fearing or in hate, we die, Un-wanting just to be. Did somewhere truth conform to love -Or was it all a dream? Oh that I would not have known love, To somehow not know loss, But truth was proven good; Alas, My life is worth the cost. Don't mock me unless it's my lot: To chuck His sacrifice, And wish that I could just repent -But it won't happen twice. God is not a God of wrath, but love and that to stay. Many men in darkness push the Judas to be hanged. But of all the things we think should happen: limits placed on grace; The real, doubted or believed: It's justice to be saved.