GOSPEL

Fear. Shame. A touch, a tinge.
Then a wave, drowning hope and peace, the woven Garden life.
A curse pronounced upon serpent, ground, and flesh.
Image obscured, the Garden now a court.

The Accuser waits, coiled, for the crushing word upon rebels.
It comes. Enemies. Seed against Seed. Lie against Truth.
A war no man could bear.

Lest One.

Beneath the judgment, a whisper, a Promise. He will come.
A Child, a Seed, a Son. Heaven laid aside for dust and thorns.
His heel bruised beneath the weight of every broken soul.
Wounded, not defeated, the head crushed, evil undone.

Hope stirs in rebellion’s rubble.
The serpent trembles. Humanity breathes.
The verdict: Grace is victorious.

The first curse already undone by the first Gospel:
He will come.

And all that was lost
will begin its return.