Unmarked

How do you get through life 

Unscathed

By pointed fingers and sin that lingers and all 

That blessed strife?

Unmarked

By words you said and things you read,

Untouched

By guilty stains. How does all remain

Unsullied?

Unmarked

I found a road and wandered awhile,

Not fully committed, but seeking.

The fences were down,

So sin did abound.

The stench of decay was reeking.

I saw Him rescue,

Redeem and deliver,

Those who had worn this path thin.

Left blood drops and tears,

Peace for the fears,

And a gate for all to come in.

Unmarked.

Unfettered, unchained.

No sign of the shame.

Unflinching, unwavering, sealed.

Unhindered, unhinged.

No clothing was singed.

Every transgression was healed.

Unmarked.

But He bore a mark,

Uncovered. Undone.

A scar where eternity bore

The dark deeds forgiven,

Right then I was smitten.

My sins I remembered no more.

{I don't claim to be a poet but I seem to overuse sentence fragments, and poetry puts up with that. Amanda's writing prompt is unmarked  and it struck me, is still striking me, how I should be so marked up and marred and yet Jesus, the great Launderer, has left me white as snow. Glory.}