Doth thou not see thine savior ?
Doth his bones not cling to a weary cross?
Doth not our rivers rise with his blood?
Were not our souls redeemed with his death?
Whence shall thee cry out for thy lord?
Whence shall thine soul be reborn?
Will thou forsake him yet again?
For the pleasures of the flesh.
For upon his death,
redemption afforded.
Paid for with innocent blood.
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