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
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