#90

Can I not be sad?

It’s happening all over again.
History repeats.

Lucifer, the son, made evil—
the first creation that fell
because
of one sin, unmeant, made
by He who should be without flaw.

He will be forgiven,
but at a price—
he had already been broken.

He will be fixed,
but at a price—
he had already been hurt.

Oh! How can I not weep?
For too, the forsaken should be
forgiven as well—
loved, understood,
given a chance—
once more, over and over
and over again—

for a redemption only eternity awaits
holds but a footnote.

But who better claim these
thoughts of false blasphemy
than one who deemed himself
so close—
so confidently close
to the One most loved, yet
felt—truly,
most truly betrayed?

I, too, do not like being hurt.

Who does?

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