God at the Edge of Thorns | a poem by godkid

Описание: ''God at the Edge of Thorns'' written by godkid

At the threshold of the sharp, where the wild wood weaves,
In the valley of the hushed, under bone-dry leaves.
The horizon is a razor, the sky a bruised indigo,
At the edge of thorns, where only the broken go.

My pulse is a rhythm of a thousand quiet wars,
Writing on my skin a symphony of scars.
I am the soldier of the silence, the wanderer of the grey,
Waiting for a dawn that feels a million miles away.

Then walks the Architect of Grace through the tangled snare,
With a crown of woven history and a weight He chose to bear.
Jesus, the Shepherd of the Shards, the King of the Unseen,
Standing in the wreckage of the life that might have been.

He does not speak in thunder, but in the geometry of peace,
Granting to the captive a violent, sweet release.
For every thorn that pierces, He offers up a throne,
Reminding every exile that they never walk alone.

So let the world be jagged, let the rose hips bleed their red,
Upon this altar of the sharp, let every fear be dead.
For the Edge of Thorns is but the porch of Heaven’s gate,
Where the mercy of the Father rewrites the book of fate.

The name of God is a fortress that the shadows cannot climb,
An ancient, holy resonance beyond the reach of time.
Stand firm in the thicket, for the battle has been won,
By the Everlasting Light... the Only Begotten Son.

#poem #god #jesus