Poetry

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Willing to Die


I have never been so willing to die
And I will not insult my creator by stating blankly that this life is not a gift to me
Yet, only what I behold to be truth holds me here
All that holds me true is regarded exact
Yes, life is meaningful to me for it purposed to express itself in me
Such a gift it is in all its loss, dissolving as it does with time
Times achievement is its detriment
Still, the undoing does not imply that light has no result
So much, does it, that as such I implore myself to submission
Necessary this is
And so much that objective defeat becomes the prevailing wind
The bread of insurrection
The breath of resurrection
I dare to say that to breathe my last is increase
To speak my last is in the Living Word
I welcome this exclusive of purpose in life, that which I do value
No, I say this with nothing else in mind but destination
And that choice, reference to time excluded, is ours
Death is not to fear
If Life is love, then death is surely gain, if love never fails
And fail it does not
To end it will not
And that which does not end, does not die
It lives forever, as will I in Him
For love does not fail because love is life and God is love
To live is to abide in God
To be in God is to shine with the Son
To be shown in the Son
Red of His blood and white of
His water
His freely given Spirit, that which only love can do
Yes, I am here
I have never been more willing to die
To live…forever
For to live is Christ
And to die is gain

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