toliveischrist.info

Zetta

There is a word we are much loathe to use
(All while awhoring in secret we go),
Which word when spoken has pow’r to effuse
Suggestions that smite right through the ego.
But call me wretched, for this single word
So aptly my ways and worship depicts,
That humbled and down and duly deterred
I come now to hear of facts that convict.
“Unfaithful” that word, which taints ev’ry thought;
The sum of my parts: a liar and fake.
But though this be true, still that which was wrought
On one Roman cross, this word will unmake.
To man without Christ, but one fate befalls.
Though one love confess, a thousand times false.

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