The Colosseum Self-assured and pompous a haughty look in his eyes he takes up his position in a colosseum of fate and madness his name is Works the citys favorite son oblivious to the coming doom screaming bloodthirsty minions worship this false hero at an altar of deception while they emulate emptiness and pay homage to the ephemeral in blindfolded bondage to untruth a wayward humanity at variance with creation given a spirit of stupor and persisting in unbelief Release the lions!!! swift is the attack in unbridled fury devouring the arrogance of rebellion the gladiator tries to fight back in terrified rage but to no avail all-consuming vanity being torn to shreds in a matter of seconds in this circus of hOrRor aghast at the futility of his own trusted strength a shell of a hero a facade of valor unavailing and reckless sharp ferocious teeth ruthlessly tear apart defiance as all the inheritance of Eden gushes forth in this bloodbath an exit so tragic so brutal so needless through a gate of self-righteousness and foolish pride the soul enters into eternal damnation the daunted crowd utters a collective sigh of dismay as it looks on in consternation and sheer disbelief some of the spectators shed tears of hopelessness the applause never comes The Emperor proclaims For the wise among you - take heed!!! His Words echo thunderingly through this calamitous pageant of myopic narcissism and smug assumptions milestones marking the way to suffering beyond Loves reach forevermore the echoes then surrender to an eerie stillness only to be broken by the sound of trumpets Enter Grace... riding on a white stallion brave and bold The Champion of truth, purity and virtue exuding an air of confidence and determination on a sacred mission to liberate destiny muscles bulging armor shining, His Double-edged Sword sharpened a Blood-Stained Cross hanging from around His neck The True One Who once was then was not then was again and forever will be Amen taciturn spectators anxiously await events about to unfurl released are the beasts once again the taste of blood begets an insatiable hunger for more with viscous intent they race towards their target only to encounter a Fierce Warrior Who lays them to rest with several hasty blows calculated and precise these beasts are no match absolutely... a white dove flies overhead those weeping slowly start to rise to their feet in an epiphany of hope Graft us into Your olive shoot Master Grace! Pour Yourself upon us we beseech You! We would bathe in Your Blessed Redemption! meanwhile the others remain seated in their own befuddlement among misplaced hopes seeing yet not comprehending walking their own spiritual tightrope in darkness The Emperor rises from His Throne and proudly bestows the Victors Crown on Grace gently kissing His Forehead in a gesture of Fatherly affection in this battle to save the desperate mortal soul He lovingly outstretches His Hands to those who weep having assumed a debt not His own for those poor in spirit and contrite in heart the daring and the brave who seek penitence in true humility striving to yield themselves to Love in the ultimate act of self-discovery eyes fixed on the bliss of eternal glory basking in Loves everlasting Embrace and forever praising The Creator of all things
Posted on: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 08:49:25 +0000
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