Cut me open.
I will bleed.
I will drown in the crimson flow.
I am overcome.
It washes over me.
I go beneath the surface.
I breathe in.
I swallow.
I am filled.
I rise.
I emerge.
Washed clean.
By the crimson flow from long ago.
As He died.
I died.
As He arose.
I have risen.
He is alive.
I am alive in Him.
He is scarred.
I am scarred.
I am healed by His Spirit.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(21/10/2012)
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I'd love to know what you think of this poem.