The Friday Called Good

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Which of me is real,

and which is the hoax?

Lies parading as truth,

nightmares pretending to be certain,

make down look high

and sky resemble grave.

Just such a grave once swallowed the Truth,

spat on Hope,

beat Justice into submission;

my fists flailed Saviour,

my arrogance gripped hammer.

As Dark grew blacker still,

Light split its circumference,

and the worst Friday in history

became

Good.

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11 comments on “The Friday Called Good

  1. Judy says:

    Beautifully expressed. Thank you.

  2. Glenda Mills says:

    Melody,

    Beautiful truth…we all must get there where we realized our sin put our savior on the Cross…yet even before there was sin, God planned to send a Savior. What Love is this…oh my soul…oh my soul…what love is this, O my soul!

  3. Light did break through all matter, all closed doors and dead hopes with His bloody pore, spikes and grace gurgles !

  4. Gallivanta says:

    And how wonderful was that!

  5. lvsrao says:

    Excellent Expression.

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