What is righteous?
What is divinity?
What is right?
What is divine?
We try to answer these things by drawing imaginary lines, blurring times, and falsifying facts.
We tell stories that justify our acts and to get some glory back.
What is it to truly die?
What is it to bleed?
What is to know the destiny of the spear?
We will cling even to darkest deeds just to shelter us from slightest fear.
We’ve grown weak.
Too weak, it seems, to even turn the other cheek, or softly speak.
We fake our strength with angry voices.
We amplify hollow power and let men design our choices.
We weep. We mistook kindness for being sheep.
So, we wage war, we rage against ourselves for made up legacies and fabricated wealth.
Why are you blind?
We search the world for answers that only a spirit can find. We lost our sight. We pray to dollar bills and cower from its might.
True forgiveness is looking at the very thing you hate, everything you’ve lost, and taking all that weight so it can hang you from the cross.
I stand here, my sisters, my brothers, I lay bare my every sin, and say we’ve been forgiven with a cross of thorns,
What does it mean to rise again?
Let’s show them.
The big man already took care of the important shit. We are forgiven.
Rise better.