In human terms: unforgivable. I am a despicable man. I am a detestable person. My hands have spilt the blood of others. My body committed more grevious sins than most. My depravity gave birth to perversity, and that perversity killed. It maimed. It makes me unforgivable. The body and bloody of one cries of the guilt and of the shame of mine. With that guilt I will die. With that shame I won't make ammends. She stands and accuses me, and I plead guilty. I stripped her of dignity, and I brought her down to nothing. I stole a portion of her soul which did not belong to me. I sinned against her and against God.
There is the blood of another. He who was not sinful took this heinous crime that I committed and made it his own. We sinned against him and crucified him. With all our sins, he died, his blood trickled to the ground, and there, beneath the cross, it also speaks. When we murdered him, he forgave us. His blood points up to the cross and tells me he took my sin; he became my sin and removes my condemnation.
I am Cain. I have murdered and the Lord has found me guilty. My shame is too much to bear. But the Lord has been gracious. He has blessed me with forgiveness, when I did not deserve it at all.
I do not deserve it at all.