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Friday, March 22, 2013

Poema 113

Slipping, gripping, and dipping
Into the outer realms of sensuousness, you find
The honey-pot of enticing nastiness seems sweet
Until the bill comes due and you're left wanting wine.

But then, you say, your heart is good and sweet.
You're numb from being broken, lost, and crying.
You're dying breath by breath with no retreat.
And love, the dream, has left you deaf and blind.

But wait; your chariot is yet to come
And cart you off to lands before unseen,
Where you'll be safe from all your past mistakes
And love divine shall make you ever clean.

Oh sleep today, perchance to have this dream.
While dangers of the night predict your doom,
There is a Savior praying even now for you.
Accept and know He's right there in the room.

And so from wallowing in sinful pride,
The Lord's corrective lenses show the light.
Where thirsty travelers meet with living water,
And selfishness moves towards abundant life.

© 2009 Brian L Hunter


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