People used to get killed for this; you know.
If we lived back then, we’d be dead.
Our names, shamed.
Throwing stones, breaking bones, preventing clones of rebellion.

Maybe there’s a reason why
people had to die.

Maybe one life sacrificed would suffice –
So the watching village wife wouldn’t make her mistake twice.

Maybe…the law was right.
Maybe the conviction for restriction created such friction,
leaving no other option but severe jurisdiction.

After all, if you can picture it,
there once was a world without the Holy Spirit.

Fast forward to the now, swiftly passing
through the evolutionary progression
of man
learning to forget to regret.


But blurring the lines,
doesn’t make them disappear.

What if this sexual revolution won’t turn losers into winners,
but saints into sinners?
What if the wages of sin were paid immediately,
and we could visibly see
the reality
of each physical and spiritual casualty?

What if someone still had to die?


He did.