De Incarnatione

Of the most important things
That history ever held
The ones that held history
Are more important still.

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Interred the Holy Son of God

They laid you in a tomb
The Holy Son of God
They put your bloody corpse inside
And sealed it shut with many men.
They posted guards outside your grave
To watch for thieves that would steal
And men who sent you to your death
Breathed a sigh at night.

I feel the leather of the whip
When I try to sleep
I feel the hammer’s handle’s wood
When I lay me down
I feel the splinters of the cross
When I stoop to drink
I hear the sentence of your death
Every time I speak.

They laid you in a tomb
The Holy Son of God
And what did you do while away?
They laid you in a tomb.