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Middle Man
A starlit night, created by God,
Healer of blight, grasp the Iron Rod.
Would we still exist, if He hadn't come along?
Would we all look different, if what He did turned wrong?
Judas took the silver, and put us all to shame,
After giving away His position, would he ever feel the same?
He didn't show anger, He always kept His calm,
Even when the soldiers came, and put nails through His palm.
The demise of our savior, His person is long gone,
But the spirit of the middle man, will always carry on.
