Oh Potter's Field

 Oh Potter's Field, how low you are..

Where once you claimed, the mold from scar.

The price of blood, so pure and true..

Have now become, the dead's own due.


Silver pieces, and not gold..

Was all it took, the Prophets told..

Thou field where poor, and strangers rest..

There the cost, of greed was blessed.


The grass was green, the wind was cool..

The whispers danced, like the devil's tool.

When days gone by, the field did bear..

Therein lies, the graves of tear.


How sad to know, what shame is sin..

Gathered close, in thought to win.

What is hidden, will be known..

For light is come, as seeds are sown.


Oh Field of greed, do not dismay..

You were bought, while others prayed.

How sorrow came, from one lost pearl..

There do others, lay their gold.





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