Breath Of Victory Poem by Isadora Quagmire

On the stone He lay, dead and cold,
the Messiah of His people
the promised one of old.

With the silence of death,
was the grave's darkness filled,
until it was broken by a breath.

The promised one of old,
now drew breath again,
As it had been foretold.

Now He drew breath again,
never again to die,
once more to walk with men.

On His hands and feet, scars yet were fresh.
Scars of His suffering for His people,
now adorned His perfected living flesh.

Now no longer must His children fear life's dearth,
for their Savior arose victorious o'er the grave,
to reign in purchased hearts throughout all the earth.

All death and darkness then did die,
as the son of man, son of God, stood alive,
for in Christ was God glorified.

Forever now the darkness of death is dead,
no power now doth it retain,
for Christ has crushed the serpent's head.

Living now He reigns enthroned above,
His elect now sanctified,
redeemed by His grace and love.