They raised the whip in their hatred
and scourged Your back until it bled.
Lash by lash my sins price was paid
as by each stripe Your back was flayed.
'Forgive him Father', was Your cry
as You bowed down Your head to die.
Such Love as this I'd never known
that You should die my love to own.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The whip by Royston Allen )
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