I crafted you with the majesty of my hands.
Awake my daughter.
Up from the grave, I rose,
Sacrificing myself for you.
It's not what you need to sit grovelling in the dirt,
Reminiscing on your failures.
For I will lift you higher.
Higher than that empty crutch you keep hidden.
To be my kin is not to speak with lies or greed,
But with mercy, kindness, dareIsay love?
It's not a figment of imagination, nor a myth that has fallen into your lap.
I am real.
This is real
I did hang on a tree with my body broken on calvary.
I did it for you.
Original Work by Sarah Rhodes. copyright