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My Rights
With Bloody Agony,
and Mercy,
The Lamb has purchased us.

We shouldn’t have the right
To squander His Love,
and turn to hell !
But we do. . .
we do.

His Heart so great—
foolish with Love,
that It went so far
as to give us the right.
The right !

—Looking into His
    Him smiling, thinking
    This will be
    enough. . .

and i spit.

Him on His Bloody Knees.

my Love. . .
What have You done?

i don’t want it,
take it from me, now.
i don’t want that right.
For i use it.
And i am cold, like a stone in the ground—
like dead unremembered.

This poem is © copyright by mark macdonald

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