Treachery's Kiss

The kiss upon the cheek.
The countenance glazed
With feigned friendship.
The onlookers in the know
With slander, besmirching
And judgment.
The menacing swords
Having Father's approval,
Furthering His plan.

Still I must forgive.
Count it all loss
For the excellency
Of His better.
I have right, words
And power to silence
All scoffing.
But I shall not,
And He shall have His way.

And I shall rise
In some bright morn
Of recompense.
And postures,
And much unfeeling,
Found shining in wondrous
Family likeness;
Beside an empty tomb.
The hate forgot.

(Painting by James Tissot)

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