Manipulation griefs the death of its deceit;
Its glory demystified, its reputation proven vain
Having been slain by love, it cries in pain
He that has once been placed at the pinnacle of power,
He that was once exalted as great
Will now know judgement
As the axe now lays against its nape
It could not prevail against the seed of men's perplexedness,
Dying in love,
Risen with power
And by His stripes we are healed from all our brokenness
YOU ARE READING
Clay
PoetryA collection of poems flowing like a river from a heart made of clay, as it groans while being molded and when fired, screams in pain; yet rests in the knowledge that the Potter's handiwork will certainly be great.
