Easter Poem

I'm lost.

Caught in a web of lies,
things I only half believe,
I struggle to be me.

Some where I cross a line,
trying to design,
a lie that's true enough to live,
but "right" enough to give,
a sense that I belong,
in the only world I've known.

I'm tired of the game,
I must be breaking rules,
but once the game's in motion,
it engulfs you like an ocean.
Quiting's not an option,
but playing on is a dungeon.

I lie awake at night,
trying to uncover the fake,
face it and make it,
more true to me.

Truth is relative.
Mine,
yours,
ours,
as different as we.

I want to be me,
but I'm glued to a lie,
afraid your love for me will die,
if I stop the lie,
that you'll worry for my soul,
if I tell you my truth in whole.

Maybe it's just a phase,
maybe I'm in a daze,
but I can't comprehend,
this Easter craze.

Love and blood and sacrifice,
clashing.

How can my God of love,
demand a sacrifice?
How can my God above,
give his own sons blood?
How can a God of Earth,
give his own life,
and call it a birth?

I don't want the "love,"

of a God of death,

filled with wrath.

I don't want to worship with bloody crown,

thorns grown to torture,

an innocent head.

I don't love a God of the dead,

giving death before life,

and demanding a price.

I believe in a loving God,

a spirit of compassion,

loving without ceasing,

giving life without a price.
A God of all,

who weeps for the broken,

who carries the hurt,

gives another chance,

til we get love right.
Who sits with us in the night,

and leads us in her light.