Blood On My Hands


With tears running down my face and blood on my hands;
I knew I was crucifying a humble, innocent man.
It was my job and I had to do it or I, too, would die;
This man called Christ He took it all in stride.

I was in charge but I did not let them see me break down;
I felt someone staring at me and I slowly turned around.
We made eye contact as He hung there on that cross;
To my silent pleas of forgive me, He said all is not lost.

As long as you accept who I am and follow me to the end;
Then you can reside with me when I return again.
Yes, I forgive you and anyone who will turn to me and ask;
That is the reason my Father sent me, to erase man’s sinful past.

Amen

Pat Finn finn@mebtel.net

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