The woman you accuse
Has not lived here for some time,
She died upon a cross
Against her will and yet for mine -
Now what remains here in her place
Is nothing less than my son's face
And I do not recall her past mistakes.
This woman's not condemned
To pay the price for Eve again,
The birthing pains alone
As consequence have been enough -
For now the life that breathes in her
Is so much more than she deserved
According to my gift of grace and love.
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