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THE LAST SUPPER
The last supper
The scent of the warm bread made by his body
The taste of the fruitful red wine made by his caring blood
The smell of coolness breeze by the fathers breath
For I have never felt this calm
For I have never felt so sorrowful
The departing of my lord hurts my soul
But enjoying the moment
Never felt such succor

© Bitar55

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