Here is an edited version-
Stained Streets
Nighttime silenced all activity
except for that of a lonely shepherd
protecting his flock.
Tomorrow the daily activities,
would once again pick up
It's fast rhythm of life.
For most, nothing had changed.
the population wasn’t affected
by a loss of one,
but the streets tell differently.
A smell permeates the air,
despicable and loathing,
clinging to upturned noses.
If one followed the heavily
beaten sand within the city,
trampled by an angry mob,
one might notice a darker stain
in the dirt, still wet,
dripped from a whipped man.
The place of the skull is deserted.
Three holes in the ground and a few nails
are the only signs of the days events.
Blood is smeared on the ground
and the sky is filled with looming,
black clouds;
and heaven weeps.
But these are not tears of sadness but of pure joy,
For on this day the greatest
sacrifice was given to us from God,
His son, the Savior, crucified
that all might have life.
But no one knows this,
no one sees farther then the next day,
the next meal.
Tomorrow life will flow into its normal pace
and the blood stained streets
will be all but forgotten.
But on this day
we caused death
and with it God made life.