Friday, April 22, 2011

Easter Poem: Blood On The Doors























under the shelter of blood
wrath passes the door frames
of my hardened heart

my million sins and counting
reckoned to the lamb
whose blood smears the unholy

from sight, my heart counted
as pure white linen made alive
at Christ's kingdom feast

my sin killed with his body
the bread of his affliction
poured out in exodus

sheep led out of the muck
into fresh pastures, while chains wrap
around the armed guerillas of sin

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