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February
1987
the
skies were red
crimson
borne on tears
a
flaming, sky borne pyre
over
empty, silent halls
silver
where bloody skies subside
silent
service
for
a world
for
a life
for
a king
beneath
and bright
on
rain damp stone
flames
entwine with lace
silent
on the wall they lie
drop
cloth for the God
a
living veil replaces
one
destroyed
as
we denied the Son
the
sun itself will praise Him