Blood on my hands.

I struck the heart of God.

And He gave himself for me.

His blood on my hands.

And life pulses through me.

Life blood seeping into pores.

Heart inflating, lungs gasp.

Blood, God blood.

Infinite, perfect blood on my hands.

I cry, tears of anger, loss, gain, redemption.

I claw at passersby,

Some never see me.

Desperate, pleading – His

blood on my hands.

If I can but brush their hand

As they pass me by.

I, the irrelevant, pleading, bloody beggar.

If they might notice His stain.

The stain of His blood

As they pass me by.

Let His contagious blood

Seep through their pores

And that stain on their hand

Never fade.