The Blood of the Lamb
I came in from the fields to take a bath.
Taking off my worn clothes I stared aghast.
They were so stained and filthy, torn and worn
That I looked for a way to get new clothes.
Sadly, I was poor without a penny.
I looked and saw the old chains on my feet.
These kept me bound to a cruel master.
I would not be free after my life passed.
I walked by the place where the lamb was killed.
And in quiet desperation I threw
My clothes into the place where its blood spilled.
Quickly, I pulled them out and stared in shock.
They were made new and bleached whiter than snow.
I put them on in surprise and in hope
And found the chains had fallen from my feet.
I danced to the mirror and realized
That the blood of the Lamb made me new born.
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