The Martyr

My children could be plucked from this ambiguous world one by one

And still I will Love.

My body could be ravaged by disease and wasted of all life

And still I will Love.

You could strike me with your hand, I would turn the other cheek

And still I will Love.

You could be Judas, or the hand of the sword that pierces my side

And still I will Love.

Beloved you could shatter my heart and slain my every hope

And still I will Love.

And so it is within that stillness

The endless depths of my Love

Conquer the depth of death for me.

In all brokenness

My will so absolutely free

Beyond all stillness

I will ever Love thee.

Regardless of your Love, I’m told

T’is a courageous place to be

Martyr’d for Love

To be or not to be.                

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About mags

Beloved apostle of His Soul x
This entry was posted in female discipleship, Love, My poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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