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.