The war was for gain of will; fought not with hate, but love instilled;
The Victor began His gallant fight before Time came into sight;
The object of love: a certain soul, living on this unknown shoal;
This shore, his home, was strange to him, enraged by his state of sin;
Restless, he was, wrapped in fear, not knowing he was held so dear,
By the One he feared and kept at bay, yet for him, was his Way;
Still, the One, held His ground, by a passion divinely wound;
He came with sword of grace and truth, and His heart, with which to prove;
When threat perceived, the soul resisted the One, (who patiently insisted);
A strange thing happened on that shore: the One held out His glorious sword;
Seeing the hilt offered to him, he took the sword, in his sin;
The rage fueled his heart with dread, thus smote the One, and struck Him dead;
Then the soul began to grieve, seeing what his hand achieved;
The beauty of the One diminished; the Crime, it seemed, had been finished;
He felt inside himself a cry, yet knew not what, or what else why;
For three days hence, his heart confounded; with his fear, a grief compounded;
Three days gave way to glorious light, for the One arose with righteous might;
He came to the soul, to grant reprieve, whose rage left when he believed;
These footprints belong to the Lord, no longer an enemy, but now Adored,
He came in love to never part the shores of which are my heart;
To gain my soul, He won by losing, and let my sin be His bruising;
I meant for evil, while He for good, so took me in, as He only could;
In time these footprints, no longer strange, for this new state was pre-arranged;
These footprints of the One now near, the Great High Priest is now dear.
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