Along our walk we see the king,
his name is jesus,
and he is the wings-
that suround us.
You won't see,
if you don't look.
You must believe,
and read his book.
It takes your breath,
as you read the tale,
about his death,
on calvary hill.
He gave his life.
A perfect sacrafice.
For what this was about,
he had not a doubt.
As they hung him,
they had not one clue,
this man died for the sin,
of not just me, but yours too.
A rugged cross-
upon which my savior hung.
A dear mothers loss,
of her only son.
What's done is done.
There's no turning back.
People left to mourn,
noone was cut any slack.
He done what was right.
He knew he would win.
He let man kind take his life.
Noone could have defended him.
Now and then,
for those who know.
He'll be back again,
for all his children to follow.
He was back then,
and he will be tommorrow-
he is the father,
and the son.
He is the holy spirit,
and he is what made us unite as one.
Lost in the woods,
he found me.
Jesus Christ-
My one and only King.
Date Written: 7/29/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem