by, Cassandra

Drops of blood that stain my hands. Wash them clean and start again.
Trying hard to hide this proof of my sins and of my hurt.
Once again this stain appears, nothing seems to make them clean.
From hand to heart the stain will spread, impossible to hide the crimson thread.
Marked for life with traitor's scar unless a hand is given to hold.
So now I pray just once more, implore the One whom I forsook.
God, please help me, hear this prayer. Wash me clean with Your blood again.