The Passion Poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen

There was indeed a hanging
The stake was there, and fresh blood driping
And a sign over His head reads 'The King'
All hail the mighty jewish king!
There was a cup driping of vinegar
Some unused nails and a heavy hammer
And the guards nearby casting lot
For a robe of worth, i knew not
My God! my God! Then it was finished
Mission indeed accomplished
Thus for my sinful sake
Was He nailed atop a stake
What followed was the thunder and lightening
The earth quaking, and the rocks spliting,
And the temple veil rending,
And the dead in their graves rising

Earlier, they had gathered an army around Him
They had striped and beaten Him
And put a rich linen robe on Him
Bowing down and mocking Him
They spat on Him, on His wounded head they strucked Him
They took the blood stained robe off Him
And put his torned clothes on Him
That made the multitude screamed, crucify Him, crucify Him!
A crown of twisted thorns was woven for Him
A heavy stake they laid upon Him
And they chanting, with plenty jeers and boos
'All hail the king of the jews'

But before then,
In a place called Gethsemen
Were Peter and He
And two sons of Zebedee
Trice did He pray, trice met them asleep
He, filled with a sorrow deep
While they, heavy with that evening sup'
Did doze until the master woke them up
Awake! Awake! Did he say to them
My hour has finally come
Then came Isi carrot, with the elders and chief priests
To greet his teacher with a traitor's kiss
Thirty pieces did he take
To nail the Lord for my sake
And there was Simon denying his master too
And trice did he, before the rooster crew
Then was the scriptures fufilled
For all forsook him and fled

But there was indeed a redemption
An exchange for my salvation
Paid not in silver nor gold
Certainly not in any measure of old

Who shall believe this report?
Who shall declear His support?
He was removed from the living
For many errors was He striken
And it pleased the All father to bruise Him
To place the fault of many upon Him
And He, serving out His soul unto death
Like a Lamb, yet openeth not his mouth

For this PASSION did he die for me
And by His blood set me free!