look.
atop the haunted hill
where splintered beams intersect.
the Father’s crosshairs,
aimed at his son.
behold.
mounted on the haunted hill
the apex of redemption rises.
where sin and perfection collide,
the bullet and the target.
remember.
upon the haunted hill
i should have been.
wrath’s dart was mine.
but a mangled corpse reveals:
the Father’s aim is sure.
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