I will not wear this pain, this guilt
That you would thrust on me
I will not clothe myself in it’s stinking tatters
Or wrap myself in shame.
I have taken off my sin, shall I put on another’s?
I cannot make up an offering, even for love’s sake
It must be the acceptable sacrifice, or none.
I may be my brother’s keeper
But none may redeem the life of another
And my tears will never wash you clean
Will never wash me clean
Will never be clean.
Blood shed before the foundation of the world
Is my only garment
Self-righteousness will never fit under it or over it
Yet the stream itself fits all
It is easy clothing
Chafing nothing but detachable pride
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1 comment:
This poem really touches me. I may link to it in my blog at some point soon.
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