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How ragged is the robe,
How blessed is the cloth,
A shroud of hope bestowed,
For mankind's sin, now wrought.
How painful is the sound,
How harsh the hammer falls,
Yet, heaven's peace is found,
In eyes that foresee all.
How scarlet runs the blood,
How bitter tears behold,
Upon a sainted head,
A crown of thorns imposed.
How fragile is the flesh,
How rough the wood is hewn
Within death's final breath,
Life's victory is entombed.
April 11, 2004
**No need to rate, just reflect.**
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