Washed in the Blood of Jesus

January 11, 2009
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I can see the blackened filth
In every corner of my skin,
A thick and hardened crust
That rots me from within.
My fingers scrape and tear
At the gruesome coat of grime.
Not a soul or substance in the
World can free me from this slime.
Tears smear my dirty cheeks
For my ever burning stains.
I fall to my knees defeated.
Of my hopes not one remains.
Desperation swells in me
And I scream into the air.
I plead and sob for all I’m worth,
For all I live and care.
In answer it begins to rain,
Rain rich and red as a rose.
Falling thick and heavy down
Until it soaks through my clothes.
It touches every inch of me,
Every finger, hair, and 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.
Each heavy layer of brown
Gently slides off and dies.
After hurting me for so long
They crumble before my eyes.
Washed in the blood of Jesus,
Blood innocent and void of sin.
I’m rid of that blackness covering me,
For through Him I’m born again.

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