Friday, March 25, 2016

Good Friday

A bloodied road
Agony covers his face
A crown of thorns
A people turned
Disciples fled
Alone to bear an abominable weight
The wounds still fresh
Flesh torn and bone exposed
A burning torment
That has no relief
Too tired to walk
He falls to the street
Bruising an already anguished form
A strangers hand
A cross of wood
Carried to a hill called skull
Nails in hands
Another between bones
They hang him there
In an unforgiving sun
Sweat and blood stream like rain
Down a face that suffers such pain
Every muscle aches
Strained and wrenched
Breath is rare
He looks up to Father
Who turns away
He has become the sin
They, we could not bear
He looks down
Mercy fill his tortured soul
Forgive them for they
Know not what they do
Compassion among jeers
Love among inexplicable hate
Why Father
Why have you forsaken me
Tears mix with blood
His heart breaks
Into your hands
I commend my spirit
Death hovers below him
Basking in the gore of victory
He tastes the air
For the last time as man
It is finished
Day turns to night
The earth trembles
A curtain is torn
Blood and water spills
The separation is gone
Salvation is born
A single soldier
Hard and cruel
Brutal and cold
Surely this man
Was the Son of God
A mother weeps
A brother mourns
The day is done
A sacrifice accepted
A redemption nigh
The enemy claims victory
Men cower in their err
But God has a plan
Laid in a grave
A stone before a tomb
Soldiers at the guard
Family and followers in hiding
Hope seems lost
Dusk falls
Sunday is on the way

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