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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Death Raised

I have my tangled, shrouded, perilous sins forgiven
without a pious heart

because God is merciful and healing from a bruised body.
I will try to prove my strength
and flash my golden idol face.
I will dance of victory
and fall in the mud prepared for me, the grave.
As I set my eyes on Thee who conquered like a violent grip
because You never let go of someone fallen.

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