The Cross

Have to admit I am deeply flawed And no matter how hard I try These things so deeply lie Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Balancing elements Losing irrelevants In places No soap has ever been In places No physical eyes have seen Still, it’s not enough Some habits hang tough The flaws magnified Obsessing over scratches While missing the gaping wound Bleeding Pleading Seeing life ooze away Nothing left except to pray Elements stirred Returned to the point At which we started When these four were parted Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Four-lorn, I am The fifth gets Short shrift The Lamb I am A Cross Free of Dross I am Yes, I truly am

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