The City Of Golgotha - Poem by Babatope Falade
The City of Golgotha
Striped earlier on the back, adorned with a nest crown,
The Romans cannot be said to be fair, the Jews can be said to be wicked.
I pray ye, they know not what they do.
People watching my despair; the repair I strive to purchase at the hand of glory of my father in heave-their father since old times.
Golgotha is my city of condemnation, their city of salvation.
When the son of man rises again, when the Holy Spirit takes over Golgotha shall less matter.
When man is saved Golgotha might be a city to remember.
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If You Forget Me
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