His Wide Arms

We live in a world shaped into an inverted pyramid. A world where wrong is painted true And evil is displayed as the greatest good, It’s a world at the very brink of insanity. A world so tough, for those whose garments are white, to bear with And it is so effortless to get stained with the nearby oily hands. Hands whose ways are so repulsive and thoughts ill at ease Even to those dwelling in skin the same. These are people whose frames are frail and prone to fail. People so hard to control and are drawn to what they can smell. They usually live for the moments and don’t consider the effects. Winked at and rejected by the few ones sane. Yet, he whose name is holy loves them so much. He waits patiently, winks at all their errors And welcomes them; even those with the grimmest garments. Such level of love my brain is yet to comprehend much