Night of Crucifixion
Rain of sin
Upon
The Jews and heathen.
The ground gives way to
Mushy dirt of wickedness.
Clouds grow sackcloth,
Day turns to night
Thunder rolls over Golgotha
Upon this sight.
I look upon my blood-stained Savior.
Lashed by the centurions; crowned with thorns,
Bearing the cross and mocked by man
Pieced by pikes driven with pain.
Yet the mob was surely entertained.
Beyond is the wooden stature of the cross.
Beholding, splinters on the back of the Holy One.
Pierced, gasping, and feeling
The trickling of blood and onslaught of rain.
Yet He’s gazing and saying,
“Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”
O! What agony he must be going through!
Upon the knoll, I see,
Many rising and crying.
Rising for air,
Crying for loved ones are near,
Yet no one hears.
Night of salvation,
Death of my Messiah.
The heavenly one,
Who versed against Satan
And won.
2007-09-28
15:42:22
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12 answers
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asked by
Evangelist
3
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry