You hold my frail, fragile body - love pouring out of your wounds.
You then hold me up for the whole earth to see, for I have been drenched in your blood as you bleed.
My soul is restored within me.
How can I repay such a horrid debt as this? - the giving of yourself to save my back.
I was the sinner & you were clean, yet you bore those scars for me, you died to set my spirit free.
YOU ARE READING
Incomplete thoughts.
PoetryA collection of words that convey incomplete stories from my mind. Some mere sentences, some paragraphs with misplaced conclusions. A fragment of a picture.
