Monday, February 20, 2012

The Gospel

By Mark Bishop

A thousands ways to symbolize and metaphors to draw
Yet none could fully capture that which freed us from the law

How could sinless he who willing bled and died
Be credited to faithless me a wretch who stole and lied?

Yet joy unending left it's place in palaces above
And set me free to chose again to wed with my true love

While at the altar long I stand and gaze into his eyes
My thoughts are stolen from me by former lovers cries

Grieved He bids me stay as I hesitate to speak
To promise Him and bind our hearts in future bright or bleak

What of my heart!? Might it be lost amongst the lovers past!?
I start to weep but look to find his hand in mind still holding fast

His sweet and gentle voice scarcely heard above the noise
"I'll fight for you however long 'gainst Satan's shameful ploys

I know your story and I formed this broken world of which you're part
Cling not to that which tempts you now trust me to win your heart."

I turn toward him, face to face I search his eyes and find them true
Then in a moments clear resolve my wayward lips confess "I do..."

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