The Sun Won't Set

The sun won't set, on these tattered shards,
of hearts left scattered, in the dry yards.
On deserted, vacant, emptied soul,
of these three words, bidst I ye, ne'er to speak,
proclaimed, by yon Christian's heir of peace.

Thy full lips, waxed not, this salvation sweet, where our love once reigned.
Impassioned tempers, pressed mighty constrains, of life's zeal, within thine breast.
now abdicated, lies the throne of purposed strength, and I a knight, unknighted.
Once bade, cease to cry, toward battles worthy, of his might.
Banners faded, tossed to wind, slowly decompose 'neath lengthy winter's bitter chill.

"It is finished", 'tis what was said aloft Golgotha's, splintery dread.
Couldest, no greater words, thou have composed, to strike love dead.

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