Bloody Wings

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  • Paint
  • is doin some Solitary Thinkin-- Lee Ann Womack

Bloody Wings

My well built back

covered with scars.

He knows that,

but that secret is ours.

Like holy water poured onto my brow.
The rain,

it stung away all the hurt and sorrow.
Like a baptism from grace above.
To show me His healing power.
And His Almighty Love.

Open fleshed wounds burn deep into my being.

I will not let them be

to bend me at my knees.
I carried my cross and I stood
through bloody thorns I see.
later I understood…
sheep in wolves clothing
I trusted as good.

An innocent soul

treading muddy water
storms were made,

that much harder.

It dripped down my back,
bright and foaming red.
I couldn't even lay myself down to bed.

Down my neck and chest
life’s red heat stained and drained
tears of an innocent,
so much pain.

I dreamt of the day
an angel would take me away.

arms wrapped around me
comfort and calming me.
Peace for this wretched soul
to cleanse away my dark
and touch my life aglow.

I felt He had forgotten me
Alone, He'd forsaken me.
I had tainted His soil with the blood of a sinner.
"No wonder," I thought, "I deserve no dinner."
No bread I broke
No wine did I taste...
precious things weren't meant for such a dirty face.
I thought I was just a creature
not a human with a soul.
I dreamt of being beautiful,
solid and whole.
Like the angel's above.
With strength and love
Wings that could take me
soaring like a dove.
But that was nothing I could have.
My wings were but dirty muddy halves.

I was taught to keep quiet
I was taught to frown.
I was taught to be ugly,
earthen and brown.

White were the dreams that were beautiful nightmares...
Like the wings of an angel and Heaven's cloudy stairs
I imagined me playing and running around.
Listening to Mercy's sweet loving sound.

I was taught I wasn't worthy
I was taught no one cared.
But in this life I do still dare.
I love with all my heart,
despite the wicked hands,
The ones that blackened my sight,
the ones that blocked out the light.

God commanded me to my knees
and it is there I shall always be.
I will make my reparations
and I will finally, finally be...
whole and beautiful and free.

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

Paint’s Poems (43)

Title Comments
Title Comments
11:59 2
I'd Stop All of Time 3
The Night I Shot Cupid 3
My Windows 4
Tablet of Truth 1
Dear Mom and Dad I Promise 3
A Soul of One in Two Bodies 2
The Last Words 2
Fragile Heart 0
A Love to Last 4
Through Your Eyes 3
The Bleeding Rose 4
Requiem 3
Unsettled and Uneasy 2
Bloody Wings 0
The Same Amongst Strangers 4
Taken 1
Whiskey 1
I'm Tryin, Babe 1
It's Ok 1
Glass Raindrops 0
My Immortal Consequence 0
Willow Tree 0
The Canvas 1
Ponderance: Reactions 2
Encounter of an Armored Heart 2
Let Me 5
Tortilla Soup for the Mexican's Soul 3
Tell Me 1
The Soul's Connection 2
Reflection 1
It's Midnight 2
Lullaby Rain 2
A Heart in Tune 0
She Painted It Pink 2
If Happiness Were 1
Decision 1
As Long as You Know 0
Don't Follow 0
Those Eyes 2
Space and Time 4
Lonely Little Angel 3
Heartbeat 5