So if love failed, then there wasn't love there to begin with
if love can turn so quickly to disinterest
then a falsehood, a mimicry
So what was the passion, near God-like?
And who keeps hoping to find His likeness?
And is it grasping at the wind,
that we in our mortal form,
can act or be like Him?
Deadness is the wasting when you are not giving
Death is the next exhale into meaning
Sinless it quietly whispers that it has more life than you
You know what you were yearning for,
to be broken from the hope of escaping...
You were yearning for a place where you arrive,
but earth moves
that is the only truth you know
Maybe nineteen kingdoms from now He'll come
not for the rescue
but for the conquering of mankind
till then the Spirit prays 'Thy Kingdom Come'
and the heart sings a different melody, unsung