Love…

Love…

Does it hold on, does it let go
Does it see the stars fade
The days from long ago
Are there questions it cannot answer
Dreams it cannot fulfill

Does it result in answers
Or stifle like cancer
Is it just an abstract idea
An intense feeling made in movies
Forgotten in the courts

Does it see a man condemned to die
Or does it see a man who has
Condemned others where they lie
Is it a catch-all for the weak
A play thing for the strong
Romance for a time maybe

Does this love do
Most of what is called …. love
Has been seen doing lots
More yelling I would imagine
Has resulted from love
More hatred, more killing
Yea, they were so willing
To spread … love.

So this love has been cancer
Spread by pictures and catchy sayings
Sayings even condemning in their honey
All the while reaping in the money
Spoils and riches this love does abound
Power, greed, lust, oh yes over the entirety
Of congregations this word is exalted, lauded
All the while their vision becomes more clouded

Can’t we see where this is going
Hypocrisy leaving our lips as we utter the word
Scoffing leaves the others’ as it reaches ear
What are we doing??
Maybe many things to deserve multiple question marks
Casting in our lots with politicians and companies
While at a smooth word our heart sways with the breeze
Funding this, smoothing that, protesting the lot
Stand by your pride we say, for what is right
What is right has been the consummation of our pride
Despicable and soiled, filthy rags before a King

What this word has been, has been destroyed
Clothed in secrecy and lust of the vague
Hidden in plain sight, so that none may know right
Hidden in history and wars, forgotten in plagues and in prisons
Replaced with hatred and sorrow, pain and loss
If anything, simply an idea tossed about by the media
And defined in the great world of Wikipedia

Love does yes, but this kind of love has done too much
Destruction and disdain it has brought
And soiled the Name of the one who truly Is

All this poetry to say
Sacrifice has yet still made a way
Reminiscent of a man from Gotham
Far more glorious in His appearing
No mask does He wear
His glory is His clothing
Love Is His Name

And He will not be forgotten
There is no need for Him to rise again
He already has
His sacrifice far greater than just one city
Bloodied He died the Way to eternity
Risen He conquered all evil

His love did
Not with campaign or protest
Not setting special dates to show His fervor
Instead ate with those sinners
And washed the nasty feet of those He loved
He taught, healed, how he cared
Enough to save His harshest rebukes
For those who thought they knew Love

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