And in a short story
The tale is revealed
A lamb led to slaughter
Innocent
But offering it's life
For the sake of the children

They pour out their souls daily
In worthless endeavors
To numb the affect of society
They return often to their own vomit 
To taste again of their mistakes
Not knowing that their past 
Will become their future
Unless they break through

There is a way out
But none will take it
They cluster together to smell
The sweet fragrance of community
But it is as a stench to God
For He is not present
He is not truly welcome
He is still an outcast
His Truth not known 
Not heard

What would cause them to listen
To step beyond their inner circles
To find Him
As He is?
Is this another generation wasted
On religious practices
With no true connect to God?

The door opens
The door shuts 
Children come and go
The years pass
Their children do the same
And God waits
For those willing to sacrifice
To bear the shame of Truth speaking
To pray alone while others gather
To lay down their lives to know God
Really know Him
His full, Rich character

He waits . . . 
He can speed up the process
By allowing tragedy, loss, fear
But must He?

The children gather
Their hearts attuned to each other
They gather to console, enjoy, pass time
But they could avail themselves
Of true Communion 
With the Father instead

Who will sacrifice all that feels good
To come near to the Throne?
Who will look on His Face 
In this last generation
To find Him ready and willing
To pour out Truth, Wisdom, Life?

Who?