* * *
What was done through the life he gave?
A solemn promise to simply save,
All the lost of his flock.
Those that laugh and mock,
That spit and scorn,
And give a robe and crown of thorns.
To their once hailed King.
Whose robes they grasp and cling,
They pull and tear,
His blood soaked hair.
And then there are those that look on with tears,
Their faces marked with looks of fears.
Yet through the crowd they continue on,
With their hearts far from gone.
And with cup in hand their intentions ring,
A hope to stop and refresh the King.
But on he stumbled,
With not one word wasted or mumbled.
Laboring on with a load he could barely shoulder,
His steps strengthened by the words of his father.
So on he went,
His body torn and rent.
Up the hill he humbly climbed,
As angels in heaven joined and chimed.
For in strength he climbed the hill,
His mind set on an unpaid bill.
Slipping on rocks and mud,
Ground soon to be stained with blood.
So on a tree he chose to pay,
And gave us the means to come and stay.
For on that tree he sat and hung,
His last breathe all but sung,
When he burst out his final pleas.
A hope to see the hearts of all of these.
With a final breathe his head lay to rest,
Gone to prepare a place for his coming guests.
But the Prince of Darkness took his prize,
Not seeing the raging skies
So with the Son of Man’s life spent,
The temple shook and veil rent.
But in three days he rose again.
Providing a place for weary men,
Upon a road traveled by a single man.
And through heavens spotless lamb,
The wrath of God was fully met.
And the reality of that day in stone was set,
The cross the blood, the cries the pain,
With the Father they all remain.
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