Why did you have to do it
Lord of nails, whips and stakes.
piercing the Mother-Cry , come
look , sons and daughters are reborn.
cradled safe by dark deserts where a bush
casts coiled shadows of thorns
burning like manna on
wet gethsemane.
weeping quails soaked
in fresh blood; prints of peace
splashing the midnight blue hills
scarlet white.
flapping Flesh, flayed food for
barren seekers finding
Peace.
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