Gospel

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105 words
4.5
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cloudy
cloudy
34 Followers

His scars map
an uneasy life;
one child among many.
His cries,
lost in the cacophony
of those that came before,
trace his journey
to the other side.
A tightrope ahead,
death behind;
the courage to go on
in the depths of his eyes.
The scars a mute testimony.

The ink is a litany.
Down his arms, on his hands;
his lonely story
a gospel of pain.
Endured, lived and overcome
by those who walked
the razor with him
and lived;
however broken.

Each mark is scripture.
I read the verses by touch and
I pray for redemption;
as he cries in my arms.

cloudy
cloudy
34 Followers
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driphoneydriphoneyalmost 14 years ago
Makes you pause . . .

and think outside your own small world. Thanks for sharing, Cloudy.

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