Christmas Present

Here is a present, because I am just that type of guy.

“And to Thee, My God, the Fame”

By Wyatt Duclos

I sat in heaven,

 With my friends and family, 

Dreaming of a perfect life,

And an immortal body.

We pled with the Father,

Asked, “Please let us go,

To Earth to live,

To love and to grow.”

There sat our Father,

The Master of my soul,

He spake softly and said,

“One must pay the toll.”

Saddened and scared,

Too meek to volunteer,

I sat and watched our brother stand,

Loving and sincere.

“A sacrifice to be made,”

The Father sighed in pain.

“It is my lot,” the Son replied,

“And to Thee, my God, the fame.”

Christ, our Lord,

Suffered and died.

He did it not for money,

Or for adoring fans,

He did it for love,

For you and for me.

The Savior of All?

He made us free.