Deep within this dark pit
of where my soul is cursed with guilt
I looked above to hope for hopes
Waiting for heaven to pardon my rotting bones

I heard the angels let out a cry
when thunder broke the bleeding sky
From its hole, stones did fall
Hitting me hard, in pain I groaned

Casting unto me the punishment I deserved
So I surrendered my helpless self
Doubting if the wooden tree, where blood spilled
Could really save, as what the apostles professed.

But here I am, at now and present
where my own blood is the only thing that exists
In every dripping drop of blood
dawns onto me that,

It is only me in this pit
My own blood that drips
who else could save me
aside from myself?

Thence I moved my broken limbs.

-qyf