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Love's Blood

By , Eaton, CO

I think it was blood,
and of course it ran red,
but where was the horror and where was the dread?
There was a great silence on his part at least,
and his self for insults was a great feast
They murdered his body,
He said it was bread,
yet still he hung lifeless and utterly dead
Where was the dignity in a death such as this?
Where was the pride in that traitorous kiss?
Oh, and surely that man’s insides spilled out,
and surely there were many, if not all, that had doubts
There were pieces of metal,
they were stained with his blood,
there was bits of spittle,
He was treated as mud
Where is the peace to be found in this,
for joy in something so grotesque seems amiss
I think it was Love,
and so I am right,
for Love came down for us and fought a great fight




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