Jerusalem, city of David,
Holy city of God,
wounded heart of Israel,
symbol of hope,
symbol of peace
you inspire the faithful,
yet you are filled with despair.

War drums echo,
in cobbled streets
We pray for peace,
but the blood runs deep.

Blood of the martyrs,
blood of the saints,
blood of the innocents,
even the blood of Christ,
has stained your dust.

From Temple Mount,
To the place of the skull,
the sinner’s crawl.
Seeking forgiveness,
seeking redemption,
seeking salvation.

We wail at the Wailing Wall.
Do our prayers,
fall on unhearing ears?

The quiet of the night,
is shattered by the blast,
of another bomb.
Dust slowly settles,
a child cries in pain.

More blood,
blood of martyrs,
blood of innocents
join together,
seep through the cracks,
between worn cobble stones.

Oh Jerusalem,
city of David
Holy city of God,
we pray for your peace.


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Filed under Poem, Poetry For the People

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