Warning, this poem contains heavy mentions of religion, and my shitty writing. Turn back now. And if you don't, read with caution. I won't take responsibility.
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If the lord loved him, they didn't show it. But due to his love for the lord, he never left.
He sung praises like a seraphim, "HOLY, HOLY," he sang. "HOLY IS THE LORD OF HOSTS WHO HAS GIVEN ME LIFE."
But one day, his songs ceased. A harmony of Joy and righteousness replaced by the wallows of a sinner.
He and his heart wept for love, for joy, for the happiness he once felt.
He believed that one day, god would send him someone. Someone for him to love. A woman who loved the lord as much as him.
But although he wept for a woman to love, his heart yearned for the touch of a man. He knew it was sin, but he couldn't deny his heart, only ignore it.
And god did give him someone to love, but it was no woman. For god saw the yearning in his heart, and brought before him, a man. A man to love, to hold, and to cherish.
He began to sing once more. "HOLY, HOLY," he sang. "HOLY IS THE LORD OF HOSTS WHO HAS GIVEN ME LOVE."
