My body aches and craves to be loved
To be enjoyed and to be held
To experience ecstasy that transcends space and time
Fulfilling desires that arrived when man fell.
My body, created as a woman
Believes the lie that I must be fulfilled
And everyone around me has it better,
I grow discontent as the longing builds.
My body, my flesh wants to give in
It wants to believe that I must stay true to my self,
That fulfillment of the sexual kind
Is truth in order to be well.
The Spirit of the antichrist moves in
Takes me deeper than I want to go,
Keeps quiet that Christ came in the flesh
And He alone knows
What it’s like to deny self,
Being fully man, He was complete
He stood the test and never believed
That the love of a woman was what He would need.
I put a yoke of slavery around his neck
I make him my puppet and expect him to fulfill me,
Meet every longing and every want I have ever had
Practicing my own form of moral idolatry.
I’ve made the covenant
I have the right, right?
To be loved, adored, cherished, made much of, satisfied
By this man of twelve years in line sight.
“Be watchful dear daughter”,
Whispers the Father.
“Do not make idols out of my creation,
They will leave you unsatisifed, unfulfilled, anxious about your womanhood,
Empty cisterns leave you dry,
But my water alone meets the need, the longings,
I alone satisfy”.
I hear you, Father. Help me believe thee.
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