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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1178748
The Gospel in iambic pentameter

Rumors and stories, legends and tales
Swirl and twirl, the liar regales
And many will swoon and righteousness pales
As they gamble for cloth and drive in the nails.

Your will, not mine, your glory, my pain
Beseeching, forgiving, He dies not in vain
And rests in the dark, without Sin, without stain
And just as He promised, He comes back again.

On the beach, in a room, throughout village and town
Five hundred bear witness, joyful faces abound
His stripes have been healed, there’s no thorny crown
And for twelve on the sand, they gather around.

Secrets, advice, can you give us a clue?
What do we say, what do we do?
How can we tell if it’s really from you?
Or is it from someone with nary a clue?

Terror and death, confusion and doubt
Be not afraid, don’t worry or pout
Redemption, salvation is what it’s about
Eternal communion within and without.

I can’t stay; I must go, as I’ve told you before
To prepare your new home when you struggle no more
And reach for my hand as you walk through the door
Follow me to the throne and the One we adore.

© Copyright 2006 Douglas Forde Simms (douglasforde at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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