Cheapened, my love is cheapened
By your abuse of its cleansing power.
You do not see me as you ought, my child,
But less than your sin’s preceding hour.
Cheapened, my love is cheapened
By your misuse of its holy virtue
That seeks to put asunder what I’ve bought:
I died that sin’s death might not hurt you.
Splattered on the ground, you use my blood
To sacrifice to your unfulfilling Baals.
How shall I deal with such a sinful flood,
Which drowns my child in what he fails?
Will Josiah’s way be fitting for these idols?
This question I intend for my son.
Decide, love, should you be cosmocidal
To all the things which you call fun?
Holy, my love is holy,
Not meant as a license to excuse sin.
Do not shrug it off when sin entices your heart;
Do not allow transgressions to win.
Holy, my love is holy;
Ponder instead my deep divinity.
Remember who I truly am, dear love:
I AM, the Eternal Infinity.
-Austin Ward
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