Empty Tombs

Just a little Sunday afternoon poetry for you. Grace and peace y’all.

The color of stone, the color of skin
Pale, cracking, grey.
A soldier is just a man;
And destruction is just a name
For every day slaughter.
But if we could grasp
Rebirth
Then maybe
In the breaking up of boulders
There we will find
Resurrection.

.ellemmdee.

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