So Godly, I Am

All the sinning saints

run with their rants of righteousness

deep into the places where they can become perfect.

Hiding behind a word of Scripture.

Ducking beneath and raising up the things that portray their, “good”.

They wear their masks.

What is beautiful to them is the need to see themselves as everything that they personally hate about themselves.

False realities.

A God that is perfect, they believe, is what they must be like,

although impossible.

They wear the mask.

They put on their pseudo suits for lounging

within the fool’s paradise in which they live.

Why do so many live as the Pharisee?

Where are your burn offerings? Your beast to shed of blood?

Jesus didn’t die for those who are able to provide for themselves

a better way.

A way that provides a richer righteousness.

Is the murderer not the same as the one who claims to keep all of His commandments? Is he not of the same flesh that continues to blind the spirit of His power? Of His divinity

over that of the selfish flesh?!

That continues to look to himself as worthy of washing the filth from his own rags, making them equally clean

as He?

Are the sinners, saints?

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