they stained your hands
with your own blood
they crushed your bones with
mighty blows of envy and hate
not realizing that your royal blood
was being spilled, and
spoiled to the ground
they persecuted you, the lamb
the holy sacrifice, the dove of life and
perhaps if they knew you
then they wouldn't be afraid
to love your sacrifice
perhaps, if they knew you
they would've torn their robes
and soaked up your blood
perhaps if they knew you
they would've died, too
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