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Started by: jarvo (30250) 

MARY MAGDALENE


There, by the road, her sad eyes wet with tears,
as step by step, He carried up the cross.
Mary Magdalene, alone with her fears.
Her hands blood wet, and now with all hope lost.

'Follow Him', a voice in her head calling:
And be there when death takes Him wearily.
Put the balm on dead skin; its touch soothing,
and wait as the night birds call eerily.

Eventide has left the world on the brink.
No more, His sacred feet wet with the sea.
'Follow me', He said; to the end and drink.
Wet my lips and taste the sweet wine with me.

And He passed down to Mary Magdalene:
His soul to bear as the cold night came in.



Jarvo 2021

Replied: 30th Mar 2021 at 20:57

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