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The Agent of Justice

March 1, 2017

He stood gleaming on a white steed, a myriad things about him outstanding. His name Faithful and True. His soul grip justice, warring for the cause of right, dispensing a heavy backlog of justice along the way. His eyes a burning crucible, of rage and revenge, a determination to crush the wicked. His head bearing many a crown. He wore a name that no one knew but he and God alone, testament to their unaccompanied bond. His robe dipped in the spotless blood of the Lamb, shield unmatched. His name synonymous with what had come to define him: the Word of God. They followed him, the armies of heaven under his command. His weapon, his very breath, his tongue sharp as razor front and back, not a nation could bear up when it struck. The equation between him and his opponents was rulership and servitude. His royal sceptre as an iron rod amid clay pottery. His enemies like red grapes bleeding under his ominous feet at the winepress of God’s fury. On his thigh and robe this name was written in unmistakable clarity: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Spoken of, will he not emerge to dispense long awaiting justice?

From → observation

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