A Bloody God
What kind of God asks for blood,
And makes men mindless slaves.
That they bury children, neath the sod,
And then go hide in caves.
What kind of God, feeds on death,
And thrives on misery?
And takes away the very breath,
From those in poverty.
My God Is love, my God is peace,
And doesn't ask for much.
The man on the cross' love doesn't cease,
He's the best man in a clutch.
12/13/10 Alton Texas
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