Unfinished.

Is it true what you said, that you'll stay for a while?
Whose bed, then, will you, in, betray?
Shall I set you a place at the table,
Or is hunger your form of disdain?
I believe you're in need of a shelter,
I believe most what you've had to say
That you've prayed and were set on this journey
Through the qualms and the cold of your faith.
And Jesus, a son, had apostles
To level his burden and weight
I believe that you're sharing a cross with
Each man that you pass on the way.

Shall I ever approach you with cuffs rolled?
...

(to be continued)