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| Spiritual Journeys #2 |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA 
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I walk among self-righteous, wicked Pharisees. They crucify Me and My blood runs red. There’s truth in wine, but words are full of heresies At Sunday masses, where My palms are read. They tear My flesh. I wear the thorny crown. They spit at Me. I cleanse them with My tears. I hear My teachings murmured by the crowd. This murmur echoes for two thousand years. Check out my poetry here: |
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| © Copyright 2003 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved | |||
Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
And will continue to do so. Nice to see you in Spiritual Master. |
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LayItDown Member
since 2003-05-17
Posts 94 |
I believe scripture says that the preaching of the cross is the power of God. This is a potent poem. Thank you for sharing. Love, LayItDown |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
A great telling of the agonies of the Christ. Joyce |
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Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
 (big hugggsssssss) Father only knows how much His son anguished to save us all and how among all the sinners here how some struggle to carry on His word to the unwashed masses! (sad sigh) God Bless You, dearest friend, this is powerfully heartfelt, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Andrey, thank you for sharing! May love and light always shine upon you! Love, Noah Eaton Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story |
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