Thursday, July 31, 2014

You Hung There, From the Killing Tree

The procession crawled
Over head the skies grew dark
I saw you falling
While carrying a cross
Upon the bloody pulp 
Of your back
The scourge whipped flesh
Breaking beneath the torture
Beneath their hand
You were given stripes
Colored in blood
In the sorrow 
King of kings
Lord of lords
From a trickle 
To a flood
Of sadness
You paid for my sin
And I am without a way
That I could ever pay you
So I offer what I have
My flesh, bones and viscera
My heart, soul and mind
And the truth
Set me free
Even so long after
You hung there
From the killing tree