My emperor is born

My emperor is born

I live in spirit of old law,
lost in world of incompresive thoughts,
if someone slap my face
I raise hand for a loudly response,
feel no shame for my acts,
look at me how I stand before you
without knowledge of sin,
I am Eve who gave the apple,
in the garden of Eden,
my wrinkles made home from my being.
Feel death as my enemy,
with image of body burried in ground,
and tremble from my muscles
seeing worms who eat my organs.
I am in constant running of pleasures,
to live every moment
by touching,
objects that surround me with proud,
bodies I haven’t explored yet
and hear sound of love,
calling me from mouths
who pronounce words of illusion.
My beauty is a web ,
as I am the spider,
catch victims to feed my hunger.
I have traveled a lot
from place to place,
to look for peace I never found,
but escape in a huge castle,
with no warm inside,
but glorious enough to satisfy my ego.
Have acres of land to build dreams,
fountains of pure water,
birds and animals,
I am deaf to their music and mistery,
only possess to be my slaves,
spread their blood
and every bit I sacrifice means seconds in my living.
Eyes are shut
when they are awake,
breath air with smell of my garbage,
a repulsive rest
who has nothing to do with me.
Separe it from all I represent,
give to nature in most brutal way,
thinking she is strong
and can endure such treatment.
But from quite some time,
feel something is growing in my body,
an egg of future promises
I will be changed
from a stray to a founder.
Once I filled a glass with tears,
and after moments of waiting
inside me a light is born
with such intensity
fog disapeared and have no trace of fear.
This unbearable light
take form as a baby with hands and legs,
blessed in every cell,
shinny and pure,
as I will never be.
He is my emperor, my hope,
who is born
with His being to clean blood intoxicated by dirt.
I feel Him as eternal light,
those rays are more powerful than any star in the universe.
Stays attached to every atom I own,
healing with His presence
the begger I was.
My hands are His hands,
walk by in a magical dance
guided by unique movement of His feet.
Come, ask, look for me
to be the vessel
where He pours in abundance
His holy blood
I am not worth to spare a drop.
He is born with love
for my egocentric self,
know how much little faith I have
and mercy even less.
Make me new again,
appear to door to take me to the Kingdom of Heaven,
so humble in birth,
covered with mantle of simple poverty.
Was never loved in such absolute way,
by anyone,
as He accepted to take me out of hell.
Bless this day,
He comes as Son of Man,
to offer hand for a trip together,
give me the most matchless gift I could receive:
Resurrection.

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http://hopeforpeople.wordpress.com/