Friday, 7 October 2016

Art imitates life

The blood that had power to pay a price
Sprinkled from a broken bruised body of propitiation
From the mercy seat of the crossroad of humanity
The road that is dark with human expressionism
With its palette of crimson sin
That paradise should be restored
Not the plants and animals as such
as wonderful as they are
But the maker in His purity
His joy and delight without a hint of darkness


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