Epistle Viii - Maronite Pilgrim

(I) Baptism, the fountain where the Father's aqueous embrace wipes my slate clean (II) Conviction, a luminous crown elevated atop my dome, my compass through the labyrinth of creed (III) Compassion, the javelin of Christ incandescently piercing the veil of self-righteousness (IV) Modesty, am impenetrable mantle woven from the unflinching fibers of rectitude (V) No thorny thicket, nor bed of nettlesome spikes can wrench my abjuration No despotic lashings nor the edge of a gladiator's trident shall prise from my lips the renunciation of Christ (VI) As my convictions confront the gleaming edge of Caesar's blade, my proximity to my Lord intensifies like a Maronite pilgrim drawing nearer to Annaya For my God towers over the false idols crafted in the forage of a marketplace, profaned by human hands