I am becoming whole
In my writhing striving
With and against God
His command to love him
And others as myself
And sacrifice me and them
My sons and daughters
And my friends that may be my enemies
To him
How can I slice my love
With the sword of God’s love
In three parts
And boil them in a cauldron
On Mt. Moriah.
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1 comment:
you're reading too much kierkegaard kid. jk (i've never actually typed 'jk' and i wasn't sure how to write it..j/k...j.k..)
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