Written by Maggie Francis Lane
copyright A Timeless Company, Inc.

I stood at the door, hinged by the earth. 

I don't remember knocking, but It was partially opened,
like her tired hands, and the soul of mankind.

Beautifully stalwart, she looked like an image familiar to me;
Clothed in a white gown, holding justice in her arms.
The bottom of her robe wrapped around my lower legs 
And we were uncomfortably entwined together.

I spoke my pardon of will through words of silence and intent.
Bearing truth, I bore her burden on my shoulders
and fell beneath its weightless gravity 

My lofty visions of power and strength lay there entombed at my feet, 
And I sank into her arms.  She lifted me up, but I fell again,
fraught with the anguish of the world. 

To whom may I present my defense for those dressed in presumed innocence? 
Injustice is a vile villain, empowered by God to afflict;
a bastardly beast, whose feet cannot be fettered; 

My argument will only come before a Judge who inflicts poverty
on the poor and disease on the sick;
Criminal in any other court but His own. 

If it is by reason that He rules, then I am insane. 
How can I defend those victimized by His misdeeds, against Sovereign injustice? 

Convict me omnipotent One, sentence me to the pits of hell for I would rather die before You a noble death of defiance than trust in Your wisdom.