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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1998289
This is a special poem about Jesus and his crucifixion for the sins of humankind.

-Into Christ-
by Keaton Foster
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Upon the cross
Intention
Not to be lost
Purpose
Always in play
Crucifixion day
The man with the spear
No doubt
Doing what he feared
Killing
The savior of humankind
Taking his life would be
The linchpin to everything
That was coming next
Without his demise
He would be seen
As just another man
A mortal degradation
Of both time and space
A stain upon the gift
Of all that was given
In the sacred garden
Of the truest beginnings
With his certain doom
The man on the cross
Would become a God
A king of all
Who could somehow manage
To hold onto their faith
Even after he left them
So very much alone
Amazed
In this wilderness of wolves
Walking through the shadow
Of the valley of death
They fear nothing of evil
Because they know that God
Will always be with them
At the foot of the cross
At the base of his demise
His people are knelt down
With their hands to the air
Crying for that mortal man
Who is slowly bleeding to death
They are just feet away
But not a one
Could save him
Nor would he
Want them to
Surely he cried out
Absolutely
He spoke of sin
And related doubt
Without question
He spoke of the iniquities
Of those willingly present
And of those
Wielding weapons
Into Christ
Such insidious intentions
Are sleight of hand
Border line parlor tricks
Meant to distract
Theatric displays
Quite choreographed
Many times he repeated
Many times he questioned
Oh my heavenly father
Why have you forsaken me
Why have you sentenced me
Upon the back of your words
I have always fought to live
Yet
Here I am dying for the sins
Of not only myself
But of everyone else
Fearing nothing of destination
Loathing only the penetration
And the pain associated
He continued to speak out
With fervor and clout
Into Christ
The man with the spear
Further inflicted fear
Muttering under his breath
Quickly my Lord and God
Die so that you may rise again
Fall from what you
Have been nailed to
Relent your life
As I bleed you dry
Jesus, the Jew, the gentile
Killed by his own people
The crucifixion
A point very well made
A point well taken
He feared not the nail
But the cross it was driven into
Bleeding to death takes time
Even with many wounds
He would live until those below
Knew, understood, without question
Why he was up there
Upon the cross
Belief always takes time
After he died
His psychical death
He was taken down
Removed
Prepped for his burial
Wrapped in white cloth
Placed upon a pedestal
In the true darkness of a cave
No one was meant to find him
Yet, a few thousand years later
Far too many to comprehend have
And
Into Christ they have since gone…




Into Christ
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.

© Copyright 2014 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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