The Whip Poem by Royston Allen
The Whip
They raised the whip with such hatred
and scourged His back until it bled.
Lash by lash my sins price was paid
as by each stripe His back was flayed.
'Forgive him Father', was His cry
as He bowed down His head to die.
Such Love as this I'd never known
that He should die my love to own.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: easter
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4/19/2024 7:12:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
