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Monday, November 28, 2011


Tell me, self,
Whose funeral finished has elevated
greatly your grace to goddess?
Should from lofty lair
you judge ignoble curs
and not view true spirits?
Are you not mere image
or are you essence of the One?
Dare you claim His crown?
Dare you fail to tear
your feeble flesh from the flaming throne
where justice meets love to kindle grace?
O my soul!
Plunge as dagger
the cross to your heart.
Splash your tears here on these lines
Let rising mist uncloud your view
of Him whose blood covers this,
even this,
Self!  Oh vile, vain, and brash,
Forgiven Soul
Blood has been required for you here.

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