October's Child

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 From the Blood on the CROSS

From the Blood on the CROSS

Bridges now burned like a flock of dark pages
Words turned to ashes from yesterday's fire
A rabbi spoke methodically on sin and its wages
I sat like a statue in ecclesiastical attire


She often visited where the cattails grew
Something in the marshes called out to her
That day was different, somehow I knew
A tapestry of images with faces a blur


Her heart full of death and its darkest fears
She couldn't say no to this dark temptation
A dabbler in sorcery for many long years
She called it drumming, I called it damnation


I saw the pain, felt her tormented mind
A metamorphic perdition before my eyes
Chanting in circles with an unknown kind
As candles were melting, I heard the cries


Twirling and dancing, mumbling things
Rotating stars became circles of fire
Blending as one inside smoke filled rings,
she sank to her knees amid the muck and mire

"Forgive me Lord of mercy, what must I do
 for I've sinned and wish to offer my pleas"
"Go in peace my child you're washed anew,
from the blood of the cross, to my child on her knees"

מהדם על הצלבים לילדה על הברכיים שלה


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