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MARTYR

 

Price willingly paid so long ago

Known earlier by Job and Abraham

Cup of death a bitter drink,

Cross experienced in part

As a share in eternal reality

Selflessness always a ready door

A humble gate gladly followed through.

How truly great the cost

How pure Messiah’s heart

The blood that flows

Down, deeply upon the newest reborn heart.

Body, soul and spirit,

A man, a woman as a little bird in a snare

Blinding death encloses

Eyes unable to see, ears to hear,

But the snare is broken

The small bird flies free

Sense  of well-being and good purpose soar on the wing

Suddenly come to life

Humanity able to bask in purest enlightenment

As darkness and all fear flee.

Lies and fear no longer rule this one,

The body destined to die

As the Baptist, as Paul, as Peter and John

As so many others gone before, death to self already experienced;

Whether sooner or later

A sword, a bullet, inverted cross

Starvation or worse,

Brief moments fully tasted,

Sips of the most bitter cup!

Many led naked in chains with nameless others into a forgotten forest

Tortured, abused and martyred by dark forces,

Left as filth and earthly waste;

Holy angels lift the spirits and souls away

Even before bodies fall as red and yellow or brown leaves to the ground,

Down to the common ground from which they came.

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