Hanging on a cross, nails hammered in wrists and feet
Jesus Christ Son of God is being crucified
Crowned with thorns, body flogged, bruised, bleeding
Raised high between two thieves, one good one bad.
Sky turns dark as night as terrifying thunder roars
Panicked frightened people believe the world is ending.
Disciple John, youngest of the twelve, witnessing
Standing with Mary, mother of Jesus, below the cross.
Hours pass and life lingers on in agony for Jesus.
Roman soldier gives him vinegar to drink on a sponge
Ending the agony, a lance is thrust piercing the heart.
Jesus is already dead and the Temple curtain rips asunder.
Centurion in charge of the crucifixion falls to his knees
Crying out in terror, "This is the Son of God."
I have become very very sad having read this emotional death of our Saviour, but after He's arisen, He is amongst us constantly, perpetually, but understandable that your lovely poem summings up that saddest Day on Golgotha
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
5 Stars for your scintillating devotional, dear Colin 5 Stars full on Top!