The Gate

 This is the message, regardless of me
- though I will a suitable exhibit be -
that mankind is full of potential and sin.
And one can be grown and the other spread thin
but never can Holiness look upon that
and see not the layer that coateth us fat,
that marbles our innards, our inner-out state
and warrants that payment in blood be made;
that taking the plight of the world in his hands
from his palms through his human tendons and strands
the God of aseity incarnate dwelled,
aimed for the cross and wounds which swelled
to pulse with blood and the pain of flesh
and cry out our justice, his grace and rest.
What shall we do with salvation so great?
How can we turn from the old rugged gate?
Oh, but we dwell on the question of why
one rescuer came and no other. And by
the passing of time we find that we stood
unmoved as we wrote of this way of wood.
We sing of its wonders while standing aside
or building, rejecting all bigoted pride,
alternative theory, religion or lord
to come and deny or save from the sword
when plainly he said it, there's no other way
to come to the father, no other to say
but the name of the son, that is, Jesus the man
who claimed to be Yahweh as no other can.
Come to the Lord and hear what he said.
Repent of your sin and take glory instead.

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