Abraham and Isaac

I go out now, to kill my chosen son,
He who has given him so takes away
His promise, orders that completely stun
My soul, yet God’s commands I must obey.
“God will give us a lamb,” I speak kind lies
Or desperate hope, faith beyond reason.
We plod on under grim expectant skies,
To where I shall commit father’s treason.
I bind him ignoring his pleading face,
Doing God’s will in loving horror here,
I raise my knife against my future race,
Then the Lord’s angel interrupts my fear.
Untying him, sighing with him, I give
God his ram, and in tougher faith I live.

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