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Flesh of Man

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The flesh and the spirit

Flesh Of Man

What are you, o flesh of man?

Even when the soul grieves,

You unsympathetically roar

And desire and cry for more.

Is there a cross large enough

To have you crucified?

A regret great enough

To have you broken?

A sorrow deep enough

To have you satisfied?

What are you, o flesh of man?

Even when the soul is in tears and pain

You hunger and laugh still,

And demand to be filled.

I bring you to a cross with conviction,

To have you crucified,

And you joyfully stare at the wooden infliction,

Waiting right there by my side.

And you mockingly begin to wail,

Knowing very well deep inside

I have no power to lift even a nail.

What are you, o flesh of man?

Even as I whimper with fear

You force me your will,

And work me with skill.

Is there a grave open enough

To have you consumed?

An ocean deep enough

To make you choke?

A blow strong enough

To have you bruised?

I bring you to starvation.

It’s all I could sow!

And you playfully faint begging for salvation.

Then you finish your show,

And you take from me at your will

Knowing deep below

My strength is yours still.

What are you, o flesh of man?

Will you ever tire?

Will my anguish ever mean anything to you?

Will my regrets ever weaken your desire?

Will my past after me ever haunt you?

What is it that you fear?

What will bring you to your knees?

When will it be clear

You’re an unwanted dieses?

Do you not rest?

Do you not sleep?

Why are you the best

At making my wounds deep?

Do you not feel?

Do you not care?

Is it always your meal

To have me in a snare?

Can you be rebuked?

Can you be tamed?

My God, you’re as a fluke;

Savaged and unashamed!

You’re hungry and sinful!

Greedy and strong!

And my heart is weak and brittle,

So I pray you are not lifelong!

But as long as I live, so will you!

Therefore, I have settled to bring you to my Redeemer.

Indeed, a Blood which saved me from a hell so strong,

Can drown you to your senses. A Death which became

To keep me alive is indeed enough skilled to nail you to a cross.

A Man who became a curse though He be God Himself,

Owns such power to belittle you,

As He did the serpent in His garden. Brace yourself, oh flesh of man!

For you go to meet my Redeemer. Mock if you will,

But I and all my life will ever remember,

The day you cried for mercy at the hand of my Savior and none was granted.