Blind

Sat he, shivering in the solemn frame of mind;

To await his destiny, to which he’d been unkind.

Battered and blind, he awoke startled and still;

For the great mystery of life compelled shameful thrill.

Towards the gallows he strode, knees as weak as seeds;

To repent for his sins, now as tall as trees.

Sat he, in compassionate fervor;

He reached into his pockets, lover

Of mystery, now forever

In praise of one – his savior.


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