Poetry

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THE EMPTY CROSS

Covered by the blood stains was the empty cross,
It had done its deed, now it stands there at a loss.
For victory belonged to Jesus, he took the cup and won,
Our sin was taken on by him, the precious Fathers son.

The crown of thorns that pierced his head, no longer give him pain,
For Jesus had risen to his rightful place, forever he will reign.
The crown he now wears is full of glory and gems,
The thronging crowd no longer there to shout and to condemn.

Those nail pierced hands left scars on his flesh,
They tell of the torture that took his last breath.
That hole in his side to make sure he was dead,
The victim of the cross, for us he had paid.

We must be born again by the spirit of God,
Repent of our sin for the lonely road he trod.
The cross forever empty, now a symbol of love,
Jesus did this so that we could go to the Father above.

G. STRAIN
17/4/11

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