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Who is Christ ?

 

The multitudes

pay lip service  to him

The crowds  in  churches are blind

They worship idols, saints, traditions, Crosses of GoLD, In Shadowy cathedrals

But refuse to treasure in their hearts,   the treasure of life

 

The Muslims despise him & his followers

the raving hoards devouring the nations

trade christ for a  demon spirit of the desert

howling, echoing  the hatred of the Brigand from hell

 

the world does not know him at all

intoxicated  by their materialism

seduced by haughty  gods of false knowledge

they can not see  the truth, the source of wisdom

 

He is mystery he is hidden in the very places  where men

Think they worship him, they worship mere emotions

& romantic religious notions,  They hide  the lord of life

incense &  stained glass windows, obscure the son’s light

 

in the evil nights men stray, & are devoured by their sins

tortured by their diseased souls, deceived by proud minds

seeking remedies of men’s imaginings, lusts & thrills

they choose to worship dead saints & hope in lies,

they cling to any thing but True Life

 

 

who can know him, ?

 

the  one that dies daily &

lays all at his feet

& thirsts for the truth

more than very life

And is drawn by the spirit

To the unending fountain

Pouring from that shameful cross

You must drink the blood

Which pours from the  heart of god

do not exchange the vile works of man

for The priceless grace

of the almighty

Do not defile the true & living way

with the prostitute of religion

 

you may say then, how shall we know him

with what knowledge find him ?

 

 

Yet Only if he himself reveals his face

Can he be really known

 

For He is still a god who hides himself

He always has walked though the crowds,

his face veiled

He is still being spat upon & humiliated  today

Whether by men of religious madness or political pomposity

Stripped naked, nailed to the cross, mocked by the world

While his followers deny & disgrace him daily

 

Oh may he come soon, to judge the wicked

& to comfort his stricken forlorn lambs

 

may I be found, to be true & in love with him

his blood my only  treasure

his words my greatest weapon

to be nothing of my own, & filled with him alone

to rest in the shadow of

He Who slaughtered  his only son

to turn his rightful fury from man

 

may I look upon him

with my eyes

but  we can only look upon him together

who has redeemed us

to make us like him

to forgive & love one another

 

Submitted by Constantine5 Iconoclasti

About the Author
Constantine5 Iconoclasti

Constantine5 Iconoclasti

A mysterious pilgrim, prophetic, and ever watchful.

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