The edge

Lady Gaga - The Edge of Glory (BBC Children in Need Rocks Manchester)

So I was told I shouldn't write this.  I'm right on the edge.  The precipice of where the truth might actually show.  So be it.  As I can can say... I've been warned.

A child was born.  A child that was to die.  Did he know?  If so, when?  Blameless... spotless.... in some backwoods city, some backwoods country, it wasn't supposed to be.  Yet he came regardless.  Could he see you?  Could he see me?  Regardless, he came.  If only to die.  To be ripped apart by the society he acted as the scapegoat for.

To raise.

To elevate.

To hold the promise of a life eternal.  If they would only listen.  If they would only hear..

They didn't

Piece by piece they ripped him apart.  Anger only driving their piecemeal tear more ferocious.

This man who promised only eternal freedom.  Life everlasting.  Water that would never make them long again.  So it be.

For such promises of liberation... they nailed him to a wooden crucifix.  Allowing him to suffocate... slowly... for him to die took time excruciating..  How dare he.  Raise us, above ourselves.  How dare he... give us freedom.  When we... do we... would never deserve.

How dare he...

come to save us...

from ourselves.

We like to hold our sins close to our hearts. 

I see you super-fans..

None need ever know, as we dress so fine, hold in hallows so precious, need salvation.  Our jewels, our ornaments, should cover any trespass committed. Don't you know?  Your voice of truth, disgusts us.  You were only born in a manger.  Did you have a Park place or a Swell license plate frame on your camel?  How do I know?  You are nothing but a Galilean.  Back-seed horror.  Red-necked hick.  Carpenter's son.  Telling me, you know more than me.

He, his truth, filled her with disgust.

Salud,

If anything, in her bathrobe, in her comfort, she was filled with glory.  Enjoy.

Bon nuit.

Santa Claus is coming to town.