A need to fill a void of heart.
A place where life can have new start.
A story needing to be told.
A need of all from young to old.
The writer does his very best,
To captivate a place of rest.
To give some hope but show the pain,
Then bring them to real life again.
We write a story every day.
Of stress at work and joy at play.
While people read it as we write.
Into our life gives them insight.
Some will read and some will gawk.
All will judge and some will mock.
But there is One who wrote in pain.
With His own blood the cross would stain.
At Jesusí trial the writers wrote.
Above the cross a well known quote.
King of the Jews was on this sign.
Those words of Truth fulfill this rhyme.
Herod wanted more you see,
Please do a miracle just for me.
Show me that your Words are true.
Give to me and Iíll give to you.
His calling was to not please man.
To serve His Father was His plan.
His audience was full of hate.
They wanted death to be His fate.
His audience rejected Him.
This Writers future looking dim.
He rose again up from the grave.
This Writerís challenge, His readers save.
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