A Vicious Love: An Epic Poem.

This world has nothing for me.
though it's pleasing to my eyes;
It's a blanket of His glory,
yet The Devil's Paradise.
Malicious in nature, we
set our eyes on glory,
glory for ourselves to
build a sovereign dynasty.
Our hands and words conceal
knives; knives directed for backs
of our brothers whom we
profess to love above all others.

~--~

The Tiger sits among men
on an earth intended
for Him. His Ferocity is calm,
his claws burn bright. among
a dark world he is vicious
with light. With eyes like fire
he orchestrates his wrath
His teeth gorge and tear, they
scourge and they shred
at the earth made for him to share
with mankind. But amongst
all the pain the lessons are lost.
The tigers eyes weary as he
thinks of the cost. He closes
them gently and transforms
his being, and as he forgoes
this process, the enemy
Is seething.
                For as the
velvet glove befalls his
iron hand, he opens his heart
and releases The Lamb.

~--~

Little Lamb, who made Thee?
The world of man asks. For
They can't help but bask in  the
shadow he casts. His words
mystify us, and we are drawn
from our thrones, and for the
first time in ages, we
find our souls are sent home.
The Lamb becomes beautiful
though he is masked as
 a beast. He shows us a
glimpse of his throne and invites
us to feast, and my soul is
released, and I feel all at peace,
and I close my eyes and I
climb to my feet, and I
look at the Lamb, and he's
knelt before me. Then I
beg him to rise, look into
His eyes, but he remains.
Then I look at my feet, how swiftly
they have led me to pain
and deceit, but the stains
I once knew are no longer there.
And I rejoice with the Lamb at
this greatest of feats and look
unto him and see his stained fleece...

~--~

Evil Wins... Or so it may seem,
as they skin my lamb and
torture him before me. And then
They tie him to a tree. Then
they spit and mock Thee!
Oh, Little Lamb, who will save Thee?
Oh, It cannot be me! For
The Feet that you cleaned, they
already flee! to dirty again
to betray and to sin...
So amongst the demons
I'm in darkness again...
Thinking, and longing
for my sweet Lamb.

~--~

My weary soul wanders amongst
the dark world. No direction
no meaning, no connection.
My back's ridden with sores
with knives left to fester
left by men and demons
in pleasure.
                 My sullied eyes
bleed and shed tears as I'm
enveloped by my fears. Life
becomes a nightmare, Though,
it always was.
                     And what's left
of my being, slowly sheds off.
And I am cast from my body
to wander naked in fright, But
my weary soul spots the
ever-present light. And as
I draw nearer, I realize
I am carried, for by my
own fruition all weakened,
and wearied, my soul it was
tethered to my remaining flesh,
captivated and sentenced to death.
Now I float freely and wander within
the tomb of my Lamb, the Temple of Life.
The Tiger, He smiles, I feel no fright.
For his claws have been drawn and
he calls me in; to rest easy, beside him,
I am finally home.