Thursday, March 24, 2016

To the Shadow

Yes, we have touched, have met
In the woods where we passed
There, when the sun grew cold
And blight lay on the grass.

I heard you in the trees,
The wind betrayed your course.
I had no energy
To trace you to your source

There, while the morning burned,
I was a flattened thing
Laid low with so much ease
By the brush of your wing.

I am so very small,
You, a monstrosity,
Mighty to shake my world,
Mighty to fall on me.

Yet I know all that tale
Which you would not have told,
Of your triumphant day
When sun and moon grew cold.

Oh, it was all a lie,
Your famous victory –
It took one empty tomb
To crush you utterly.

You still breathe venomed breath
Where paths grow hard and grim;
Yet you are dead, oh death!
All is restored in Him.

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