You can’t change what is past,
It’s gone, let it go, it could never last!
Rather like a cut from an executioners sabre,
All marble memories must die just like an earth bound burning sphere.
Come on! Could you choose the desired reverie?
However sweet but soon to fade and, sadly die?
The past is just a reminder of what has expired,
And sadly never again to be drunk or reprised.
Did not the wounded Lord Jesus, pause and rest,
Before a cruel Roman stick struck His chest.
This He bore for all people that one day from His heavenly table they might praise, hear and feast!
Sometimes only from past pain,
Can we hope to escape and gain,
A numbing release from spent soiled sin,
Then at last can, we stretch out to Him Who reigns upon that majestic blessed mountain!
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