Troubled Sleep Poem by Charlotte Ballard
Troubled Sleep
If in that Syrian grave, You rest
Unknowing of how the hate you tried
to kill, lingers on and hungers yet
Then rest well, and never wake.
but if that stone moved, and to
Heaven you ascended, and you remember
the bloody nails and the handprints embedded.
Then look below and seek to save us.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
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5/3/2024 5:41:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
