I come to you with contempt
holding outstretched my shackled hands
the bowl of ashes held tight between them
tear stained and dirty I come.
I don't know how I can even look at you.
But you don't see what I see
and your blood washes me like rain
I see anew your eyes ablaze
with your jealous love
your zeal for justice clear.
You take my bowl of ashes-
all that I can offer-
and you give me beauty.
You take my shackled hands
and give me freedom
you buy me for the price on my head.
You wash my clothes
till I am white as snow
and you are dripping red
You tell me
that this is how a bridegroom meets his bride
with a heart that seeks vengeance and redemption.
