What Man Is This Poem by Melvina Germain

Twas a night of bleeding hell,
when soldiers stood their ground.
They headed him with deadly thorns,
and mocked it as his crown.

Raging whips brought forth his blood,
still he did not complain.
He lied upon the cross that day,
Jesus was his name.

What sort of man is this,
who died upon the cross.
He asked forgiveness for his flock,
although his life be lost.

He is the son of God,
whispers circled round.
Some kneeling in prayer,
while his blood spilled to the ground.

Nailed to the cross, a gruesome sight to see.
Like daggers were his words, who spoke of you and me.
Forgive them Lord for they know not what they do.
He asked forgiveness for all who wished him dead.
In days to come, he'll rise again and soon his flock be led

Written by: Melvina Germain