đź•Š CANTO I: The Empire You Built in My Name
“Ye have built altars, but not for Me.” — Hosea 8:11
O children of dust, ye builders of stone and seal,
Ye carved My Name upon your gates of power—
Yet forgot I said, My kingdom is not of this world,
And turned My altar to a marble tower.
I gave thee wood to lift thy soul—not bind—
But lo, thy thrones were built to rule, not mind.
(John 18:36)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
Yet I have not condemned the land of birth,
Nor scorned the love of flag when rightly held.
For I do plant the nations in the earth,
That righteousness and truth might there be dwelled.
“Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord”—
But not whose god is pride, or steel, or sword.
(Psalm 33:12)
And still, a child stood by the trembling wall,
Her hands around a book she could not read.
She watched the marble banners rise and fall,
And wondered why her prayers were not decreed.
I walked not in the courts of your design,
Nor stood beneath your banners, high and proud.
“I was a stranger, and ye took Me not in”—
Yet ye marched past Me, chanting with the crowd.
I wept with children torn from mothers’ hands—
While ye made laws, then washed your bloodstained hands.
(Matthew 25:43)
Yet I remember when your fathers wept,
And sought to build a home with Me as guide.
They carved My Word in stone their children kept,
They swore to walk in justice, side by side.
“Proclaim liberty throughout all the land”—
But now ye tremble, lest I take thy stand.
(Leviticus 25:10)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
Ye say, The Lord hath blessed this sacred land!
Yet bind the widow’s mouth and shame the poor.
Have ye not read, Pure religion is this—
To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction?
Yet ye cast them down to lift your nation more—
You trade the Lamb to guard the wolf’s own door.
(James 1:27)
Is love of country evil in My sight?
Nay, child, for I am Author of all kin.
But when thy love replaces holy light,
It darkens what thy fathers built within.
A nation true is one that kneels and feeds—
Not one that tramples for its creeds and needs.
I never asked for empire. Only love.
Did Babylon not bless its throne with Me?
Did Rome not crown its conquest in My Name?
“Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain”—
But ye did, and clothed your greed in holy flame.
I shattered them. I turned their pride to dust—
And still ye carve My Name, but not in trust.
(Exodus 20:7)
But I remember when the pilgrim came—
When freedom’s cry was not yet drowned by might.
They broke the bread and blessed it in My Name,
And sought to walk in covenant and light.
Your nation once was birthed with trembling prayer—
But now, O child, your altars burn the air.
(Deuteronomy 8:10–14)
Have ye not read? He that is greatest… shall be servant—
Yet ye exalt the strong and mock the meek.
Ye feast while others beg beneath the curtain,
And call it blessing while the hungry seek.
Your cup is full—but not with love or grace—
“Woe unto you… for ye devour widows’ houses,” face to face.
(Matthew 23:11, 14)
A godly nation lifts the lowly first—
Not exalts itself with sharpened tongue.
It binds no man with chains of wealth or thirst—
It sings no anthem where the truth’s unsung.
A land that fears the Lord will bend and break—
And rise again—not for its pride, but for My sake.
(Proverbs 14:34)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
I knock. I knock, but not to rule thy courts.
I walk where tents collapse, where children cry.
I write not law in scrolls of men’s reports—
But draw with dust beneath the weeper’s eye.
Did I not stoop? Jesus wrote upon the ground—
But ye prefer the sentence and the sound.
(John 8:6)
I am the Judge, yet I came low and still.
My throne is set in mercy, not decree.
I honor nations bent unto My will—
Not those who bind My truth with tyranny.
“Let every soul be subject…”—yes, be just—
But “Render unto God” thy highest trust.
(Romans 13:1, Matthew 22:21)
You boast, Our laws are godly, just, and firm—
Yet mercy perishes beneath thy codes.
“Rend your heart, and not your garments,” child—
Yet thou bringest Me thy title and thy roads.
Return not with a trumpet nor a claim—
But with a tear, and silence on thy name.
(Joel 2:13, Psalm 51:17)
For patriotism, pure, is not a show—
But standing firm where others dare not go.
It’s holding hands across the widest breach—
It’s truth in power, and grace in every speech.
A righteous nation listens, learns, repents—
And guards the lamb, not laws that do not bleed.
I never asked for empire. Only love.
“Come out of her, My people,” leave the gold,
The gleam of empire, Babylon’s proud flame.
My voice is not within the Senate’s fold—
It cries from barns, from alleys, and from shame.
“The kingdom of God is within you,” see?
Yet you have sold it for security.
(Revelation 18:4, Luke 17:21)
I made no land immortal but the one
That lies beyond, where thrones are cast aside.
But while ye breathe, thy work is not yet done—
Return, and walk in mercy, not in pride.
So choose ye now—this empire or My flame.
Choose while “now is the accepted time”—I wait.
For soon the towers built upon My Name
Shall fall, and none shall buy their way through fate.
“Behold, I stand at the door”—My hands are wide.
Return to Me. Thy God is not thy pride.
(2 Corinthians 6:2, Revelation 3:20)
And still the child stands by the gate of glass,
Her eyes upon the sky, her voice unsure.
She does not know what prayers her lips should pass—
But I shall answer, if her heart is pure.
I never asked for empire. Only love.
And still, I wait.
đź•Š CANTO II: Of Allegiances Not Mine
“Why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” — Luke 6:46
Ye call Me Lord, yet lift another throne—
One built not in My Name, but in thy fear.
“Why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?”
I searched thy heart—and what did I find near?
The idol of security and land—
Not feet once pierced, nor mercy’s open hand.
(Luke 6:46)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
Thy flags are many—yet not one is Mine.
Ye drape Me in thy culture, not thy cross.
Ye bind Me to thy party’s crooked line,
And count thy tribal victories as loss
When grace compels thee kneel before thy foe—
If thine enemy hunger, feed him so.
(Romans 12:20)
And still the child stood beneath the iron dome,
Her hair like straw, her eyes like windblown ash.
She traced the letters carved in ancient stone—
Love thy neighbor. But the guards marched past.
(Matthew 22:39)
You pledge allegiance—but to whom, I ask?
To race? To gold? To ancient lines of birth?
“Ye cannot serve God and mammon,” yet ye mask
Thy greed in prayers and hymns of shallow worth.
I do not dwell in temples built by hands—
Nor bow to thrones of man on broken sands.
(Matthew 6:24, Acts 7:48)
Did I not say, The servant shall be great?
Yet you adore the sword, despise the bowl.
You chant of rights—but not the narrow gate.
You shout of laws—but not the love made whole.
(Matthew 23:11, Matthew 7:13–14)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
You carved My Name on monuments and shields—
But not upon the widow’s empty plate.
You tithe of mint, yet leave the bleeding fields—
“These ought ye to have done, and not left the other weight.”
(Matthew 23:23)
I saw thee silence prophets in the square,
And paint thy temples white, while bones still reek.
You honored tombs, but did not touch the prayer
That broke beneath the taxer and the weak.
(Matthew 23:27–30)
The Son of Man had not a place to sleep—
Yet ye build towers in His memory.
The Lamb stood silent when the crowd did weep—
Yet ye cry war, and claim it pleases Me.
Put up again thy sword into his place,
For swords are made for wrath—not for My grace.
(Matthew 8:20, Matthew 26:52)
I see your soldiers kneel in battlefield—
But not beside the beggar at the gate.
Ye consecrate the cross on iron shield,
But not the soul who prays while mocked in hate.
I am not in the chant before the blow—
I am the breath that bids thee let it go.
(Luke 23:34, Matthew 5:44)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
The kings of earth, they rule with iron pride—
But It shall not be so among you, child.
My throne is not upheld by blood allied—
But by the Lamb, the meek, the undefiled.
Whosoever will be chief among you, see—
Let him be servant. That is how you lead for Me.
(Matthew 20:25–27)
And still the child stood near the brass parade,
As voices hailed the march of laws and gold.
She held her breath beneath the cannon’s shade,
And whispered, “What is mercy when it’s cold?”
Ye say, We must defend what we have made,
But I am not a relic to preserve.
I do not bow to state or masquerade—
Nor march for vengeance when I came to serve.
He that taketh not his cross and followeth Me—
Is not worthy. And yet ye crown hostility.
(Matthew 10:38)
I am not draped in cloth of red or blue—
My blood is not a symbol. It was spilt.
You serve your banners as if they were true—
But I will burn what empire pride has built.
Every plant not planted by My Father’s hand—
Shall be rooted up. Will ye then understand?
(Matthew 15:13)
I never asked for empire. Only love.
The harlot of the nations rides again—
She drinks the blood of saints in chaliced lies.
She weds the state to pulpits drenched in sin,
And claims her harbors hold the righteous prize.
But I shall tear her robes and split her crown—
For I remember every soul cast down.
(Revelation 17:1–6)
O soul that kneels, confused, alone, and scarred—
I see thy tears beneath the stained-glass sky.
Forsake thy trust in laws that harden hearts,
And I will lift thee gently when ye cry.
For I am not thy culture nor thy creed—
I am thy Shepherd. And I know thy need.
(John 10:14, Isaiah 42:3)
Return. Return. My arms are not yet closed.
Return before the final trumpet cries.
The nations fall—the faithful shall be chosen.
The humble rise when haughty towers die.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they see—
Not kingdoms here, but Heaven’s mystery.
(Matthew 5:3–5)
And still the child beneath the thundered dome
Stared upward at the sky not yet collapsed.
She whispered through the smoke, “If love is home,
Then where is love?” I caught her breath, and clasped.
I never asked for empire. Only love.
And still I wait.
Not in thy flag—but in the wounds above.
Not in thy law—but in thy daily bread.
Not in thy sword—but in the tear once shed.
Not in thy pride—but in the one who bends.
I am the First, the Last. The soul that mends.
Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.
(Joshua 24:15)
🕊 CANTO III: The Soul’s Reply
“But he that trusteth in Me shall possess the land, and shall inherit My holy mountain.” — Isaiah 57:13
O God who called me when I named Thee not,
Who thundered through the silence I had crowned—
I hear Thee now, though once I heard Thee not,
And see my throne of dust upon the ground.
For I have built a name that was not Thine,
And worshipped what I shaped from law and time.
All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way.
(Isaiah 53:6)
I wore Thy cross—but not Thy aching grace.
I sang Thy psalms—but clenched a stranger’s throat.
I walked in garments white—but left no trace
Of love beside the widow’s shattered coat.
I carved Thy Word in stone, but not in me—
My lips were near; my soul refused to see.
This people draweth nigh unto Me with their mouth… but their heart is far from Me.
(Matthew 15:8)
I thought Thee pleased with banners and decrees,
With temples built by votes and law’s decree.
But now I hear Thee cry above the seas—
Not by might, nor power, but by My Spirit be.
(Zechariah 4:6)
O Mercy, O consuming flame of light,
How dark my lamp, how false my shield of right.
I fasted, prayed, and stood on sacred ground—
But never knelt beside the torn and bound.
I passed the leper for the priestly rite,
And dimmed the wounded’s candle with my fight.
Woe unto you… for ye tithe mint… and have omitted the weightier matters of the law: judgment, mercy, and faith.
(Matthew 23:23)
What good is faith if it forgets Thy face?
What is my nation if it voids Thy grace?
Forgive me, Lord, for forging holy things
From swords and scrolls and man-appointed kings.
I did not see Thy kingdom had no shore—
That Heaven’s borders open to the poor.
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
(Matthew 5:3)
I claimed Thee as a fortress and a flag—
But never bore Thy silence when I bragged.
And still the child—she watched me, pale and small,
As if she knew I too would one day fall.
She held my gaze, and whispered through her tears,
“If love was here, why did you fill the years
With noise and rules, with borders and with pride?”
I had no answer. I had only tried.
Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
(Matthew 18:3)
So now, O Voice that shattered marble creed,
I lay my works before Thee—let them bleed.
Not for approval, but to be unmade—
That something true may rise from what decayed.
Unbuild the throne I carved from fear and praise,
And write Thy law in me through humble days.
I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts.
(Jeremiah 31:33)
For I am not a temple fit to hold
The fire of Thee, the mercy of the bold.
But if Thou wilt, then purge me in Thy flame—
Restore my soul, and give Thyself a Name
Upon my brow—not empire, sword, or pride—
But simply: His, the One who never lied.
Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His.
(2 Timothy 2:19)
O Lord, I kneel.
Not in defiance, not in fame—
But in the ashes of the name I claimed.
Speak once again—not as rebuke alone,
But as the Shepherd calling His own.
I will follow, even if the way is small.
Even if the towers fall.
Written by Marguerite Grace
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