Victory looked like
a kiss that preceded betrayal
being forcibly removed from those you loved most dearly
while they watched you be spit on slapped and ridiculed
Victory looked like
being in a room full of people
who celebrated you just a few short days ago
beg for your crucifixion
preferring the company of a murderer
to the presence of your truth
Victory looked like
being whipped within an inch of your life
and nailed to a cross you should've been tied to
to appease the prideful palates of priests
who loved to drop your Father's name
but never heard His voice
Victory looks like
asking forgiveness for the violence ignorance bred
in people who mistook
authority for accuracy
position for power
admiration for admission
into your home
Victory looks like
being exactly who you always
said you were
from birth
to death
to resurrection
to prove your love
for the very people
who gloried in your demise
Victory looks like
leaving a piece of yourself
behind so that those you bled for
could believe that you you bled for them
so that the fear and abandonment you felt
at your lowest moment wouldn't be
a bond you had to share
Victory looks like
fulfilled promises to those who died
to pave the way
and those who are born into
the blessings that kept promises carry
Victory looks like
foresight
knowing that you who you love most will need
desperately
what you've provided and
setting a plan in motion
before they knew that they had a name to be called
that satisfies their every need
answers every cry
and anticipates their every desire
to dote on them when they wouldn't know
to articulate the things their heart craved
Victory is
naming your children conquerors before the battle
so that even when the night seems darkest
and it feels like the enemy is closing in
They can only repeat one trusted refrain:
"In the end, we will win"
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