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Rated: E · Other · Spiritual · #1652953
my pain your gain
When he died

his mother cried.

The evil one

thaught he had won.



But on the thrid day,

we would all say

"were did he go".

The women and children cryed "No"!

...



A voice shouted I am here,

I am near.

I have risen from the grave

and the Devil is no longer the brave.



Come here and touch my side,

where the spear made its long stride.

Touch my hands and my feet

and let me tell you of my lonely walk on the street.



To the hill,

where the people were waiting for the kill.

Where they spat,

watched and sat.



Although it was my pain,

it was your gain.

In a little wile I will go home

and build you a house of metal and crome



So that where I will be

you will also see.



This is my story

of my saviors glory.
© Copyright 2010 Aren Hard (jcrouso at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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