Transfusion
In stillness and silence, I hold it all in.
The dirt and disease underneath my skin,
born of the fall, and wrought from sin,
withers within.
My blood is filthy, in need of transfusion.
My life is stale, full of disillusion.
Jesus' blood is pure and lively.
Have I asked Him today to dwell inside me?
Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2013
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