Poem -

The Kingdom is Expansive

Art time dying, a Bible born, a curs-ed tree, a paulic thorn.
My rite to bleed, and bathe in blood, a brilliant death, a
Heaven flood. And demon prayer, the Lord forgives, a legion
Proud, and Satan lives. Thus the fountain, a Kingdom shrine,
Fraught with passion, a frantic time. And tragic night, a neighbor
Died, a demon knelt, and bled the sky. My phantom ache,
The fate of pain, the blood of God, a purple rain. And Jesus
Torn, a flock of flames, the sin of birth, a tortured frame.

Live and dying, a Bible born, a curs-ed tree, a paulic thorn.
My cross to bear, a servant dead, alive in Christ, and demon
Fed. A Kingdom gate, the fate of fears, the flight of heart,
And mortal tears. For texture blind, the lux of light, a lever
Broke, a cryptic life. And Jesus torn, a flock of flames, the
Sin of birth, a tortured frame. 

Paul/paulic: referring to St. Paul’s damaged hip.
Frantic: wild with high levels of energy.
Cryptic: containing within a hidden, often impenetrable dimension; when the entirety of meaning is only grasped in conjunction with the surface context and the core context combined.  

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Comments

author
Glenn Marchand

Indeed Cherie. I read the books of the lost Bible many years ago, and it seems that St. Paul was missing an eye, and his hip was damaged. He prayed, but God stated that His grace was sufficient. These books were not canonized. Nevertheless, all Scripture is inspired by God.

I thank you for your support. And I am pleased that you like this poem.

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