The Master’s Pen

May 31, 2009

The Artist set His brush upon the page

The goodly, squirmy lines then formed a shape.

And when the end had met the start, He made

a heart that loves whatever that it may.

The shape at first was set in boundless praise,

for having seen the Maker, was amazed.

But soon, it went into a shadowed place,

contriving to be king, it disobeyed.

But when the light uncovered all its shame

it saw the consequence – a life in pain.

And furthermore, by sin it was enslaved,

for having chosen not the lines, but space.

The master swiftly moved the pen and stained,

the pages red, in passionate embrace.


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