This Is Love

With a quick breath lungs filled with death. It hung like a mist Thicker than gun powder as darkness enveloped the sunrise with a twinge of agony. It seemed the trees withed in pain as the sun appeared to die. Onlookers gawked at the spectacle, raised above the growing pool of blood. Every red droplet entered nasal cavities as even they wind was on the verge of snapping in half. Christ hung; the grotesque embodiment of pain. Suffering ruminated over the faintly breathing corpse. Weary from the cup of wrath, nails scraped bone as He looked toward heaven. As a warrior roars so did His voice thunder across the now epileptic sky. Everything shook as the violence of the conquest of the Innocent One had been birthed.
Father into your hands I commit my Spirit.
The ground shook.
The LORD saw and His arm brought justice, death had been crushed, bones crunched, snapping with a loud crash and succumbing to its very name, as He rose.
He sees the earth and He conquered, waiting for the day in His heart, the one that pounds like a freight train as the earth looks no bigger than a penny. Collision is in His eyes as the fire that consumes His vision screams for vindication.
The roar from the Cross screams across the created order beckoning His creation to partake in life. There is no justice and truth is lacking, those who consume it are made prey, as the earth shakes in virulence convulsing for retribution.
It is His to avenge, He will repay. Face set like flint as justice swirls around Him as a chaotic maelstrom. Fire rages forth from the throne as it waits for its recompense, longing for His inheritance to reach fruition.
Passion flares as He sees every tear and hears every scream.
Their will be retribution, redemption will hold its final work. Clothing primed for dying, the visceral scream in His heart beckons you to respond.