The Time Before
Choosing to be wronged when righteous
Love lost
To old tongues
Languages of greed and grim fortune,
Of selfish desires taken so eloquently
To words long lasting, out lasting earthly wisdom.
As church leaves its people
Destitute, forlorn, wishing they had left first
A relationship committed to zealous certainty.
When love is lost
It is found purely
Not in a built place
But in the crux of people,
In the hallowed halls of hearts,
In the ideologically lonely corners of minds
Where, nevermind the greed, lives worth,
The worthiness of all of us, the truth of all of us,
The material gain left fettered, pitied, cast aside,
Excommunicated. Until maybe one day
We can learn to love what we were — who we were,
But sallow sacks of long lost souls
Grasping for the worth of the binary suns we once scoffed at,
Wishing for the duality we once despised.
