There awoke many to call my love but thou were the fairest of them all.
The resonating beauty of thy being calls nature with sopranos of her daily arrival.
Each of our conversation leaves me smiles like red paint on green apples.
I had loved thee more than the appetite for fresh honey.
Today, i illuminate beams in the dark niche thou dwellest.
No hard soap could clean the frames to behold thy beauty.
They that were thy friends said thou soared with the wind of words.
I wept when i saw how filthy the flowers we smelt have become.
Thy pure lips now recite poems of pleasure.
What hours of pleasure will feed thy
appetite?
Why slumber in the arms of them who have lost their value?
Did thou forget? No, thou stopped
remembering how i took the nails for thee.
I felt shame and hard strokes for us to live together and forever.
I died and rose for thy redemption.
But now have thou denied me ignored, and busied my calls.
Come home my love, for i lay at the gate all day for thy arrival.
Come, i still love thee; I havn't changed,
it's thy best friend, Jesus.



Godwin