I can see the filth, In every corner of my skin. A thick, black crust of muck, Rotting everything within. My fingers scrape and tear, Trying to scrub away the grime. But nothing can wash me clean, Or clear away the slime. Tears smear the dirt, As frustration burns inside. I fall to my knees defeated. All my hope has crumbled and died. Desperation swells in me, I scream and cry into the air. I plead, beg, ask for all I'm worth, For all I live and care. In answer it begins to rain, Rain deep and red as a rose. Falling thick and heavy down, As it soaks right through my clothes. It touches every single speck, Sinking deep into every fold. It slips into my thirsty mouth, And tastes so sweet and cold. As blood pours over my body, I laugh and cry in delight. I can finally see my skin again, A clear and glowing white. The thick layer of brown, Gently slides off and dies. After growing steadily for so much time, It crumbles before my eyes. Washed in the blood of Jesus. Blood innocent and void of sin. I'm rid of that blackness covoring me, For through Him I'm born again.
"Washed in the Blood of Jesus"
September 1, 2007