In the battlefields of the spiritual world the true heroes are often the unseen by the world. These are the ones often touched by heaven, who breathe the rarified air of the secret place of the Most High. -Father Nash
Friday, January 1, 2010
Kiss of death
My eyes are glazed and set. My lips are as cold as the night air. My muscles are relaxed. For I am resting in peace, but I am much alive. warm but cold. I'm still but running, free but bound by one. I am a living death, my heart is burning. my soul is crying, my flesh is rotting. I am a man possessed, I embrase my cross, I kiss the nails. I thank them that persecute me for it drives the nails deeper. deeper into my hand and into my feet.my screams are those of joy, for I am coming closer to you. as I die I become alive. as my body is bound to this tree I become free, I am a living death. dead to myself but alive in Him.
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