Story Of A Wandering Man

He wandered through the shadows, heart open, full of grace, Drawn by trust in love’s light, in every hidden place.

A gentle warmth before him, a whisper in the air, And there the serpent waited, coiled in silence there.

In one swift, fateful moment, its fangs sank deep and true, A betrayal masked in beauty, as the venom slowly grew.

Bitten by the serpent’s fangs, its venom courses strong, In his throat he feel the burn as the poison flows along.

How ironic and symbolic, that God would choose this way, A twisted path of trial, to refine us every day.

Now he stood at crossroads, with venom in his veins, “Do I let it take me under, or transform the searing pain”.

A test of sheer resilience, a battle deep and true, To rise above the poison, or start an incarnation new?

To harness it or fall prey, a choice both fierce and stark, or to turn the venom’s darkness into his own spark.

The world’s a fickle monster, each soul caught in their pride, Sitting on their shelves of doubt, with hope they cannot hide.

They wait there for a savior, a hero bold and true, But what if he didn’t rescue them, and said “I’ve had enough of you”.

Let them face their shadows, let them walk alone, They cling to prayers for saving while avoiding seeds they’ve sown.

Even God grows weary of the endless cries in vain, Tired of carrying humankind, that stubborn bag of pain.

For salvation isn’t handed, it’s earned through fire and grit, And those who truly seek it must rise and carry it.

So here I stand, unmoved, while they call for easy grace, It’s time they face the mirror and their own reflections trace.

So whether I overcome or not, that’s personal to me. For you must bear your own weight and do your work, you see.

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