everyone knew as everyone saw,
all the sacrifices made,
the pain that everyone in the future could gain from,
disciples of this man wrote great on to all his plans to save all,
seeking kindred spirits to see so,
miserable of facts that hated him as well,
could anything go well?
pray they see,
pray sky high,
worship the death can restored,
success to the family he wanted,
happiness finally goes away,
a patron of perverseness,
the fire has yet to be quenched out,
destroying the containment of death of destruction,
order and logic made from going mad,
he escaped from what we all cannot,
finally free he thought,
precocious stride more in him and in others none,
bleak did he stumble out of the grave weary,
but never more was Jesus this and nothing more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
bleak did he stumble out of the grave weary, must be a new gospel translation :)