Time drew near
And the vinedressers
Of a far away land
In fields that are dark
Beat and stoned
And killed each servant.
On ritual ground
An impossible tower
Entangled in the poison tree.
The master’s tears
Born in hope
Dissolved in despair
Stepped back to mercy
His only option
To offer his son.
Compassionate blood
Poured out on the wild vine
Dashed over a stone.
They took his inheritance
With poison and lies
Rejected
Crushed the stone
Demolished
His precious son.
And broke the heart of the master.
(There was a certain landowner who planted a vineyard and
set a hedge around it, dug a winepress in it and built a tower. And he leased
it to vinedressers and went into a far country – Matthew 21:33)
