Victory Is His
They took Him before Pilate and asked, 'How do you plead'?
We want to know before we beat you till you bleed.
He knew not how to begin,
For you see He had no sin.
They beat upon Him till His flesh gave way to bone,
And the sin of men was more likely shown.
The cat had ripped and torn away,
Faraway into the ugly day.
They ceased not until the cobbles were blood strewn,
And this beautiful son of man was an ugly ruin.
Soldiers cast a rugged cross upon his mauled being,
Across torn back and head where blood impeded seeing.
He stumbled but carried this cross to the place of the skull,
Through His palms and feet He was nailed with iron dull.
Shamed, He was speared and crowned with thorns.
Upon Him my sin and that of every man was born.
A black day saw His Father turn away,
Placed in a grave that was not His He arose the third day.
He later spoke to dear friends and those He loved,
And arose to sit with His Father above.
Now He calls me to accept His saving gift,
Admit my sin, seek forgiveness, and heal the rift.
So my dear reader, have you accepted His work,
Hurry dear friend do it now please do not shirk.
Related quotes
As She Prayed [part 2]
Dear Father Up in Heaven
Watch over our soldiers who fight
For they are fighting for you Father
For the differince in wrong and right
Protect them dear Father
And mend their scars and hearts
For they are far from home dear Father
And their families are torn in parts
Watch over their families, dear Father
Keep those children from all harm
For it's the children who suffer, Father
When they fall under satins evil charm
We'll try and watch for satin dear Father
So our hearts won't let him in
And try our best, dear Father
To shun away from his sibn
I pray for the women, dear Father
Raising their kids all a lone
never knowing, dear Father
If their husbands will make it home
This prayer I pray to you, dear Father
It's this prayer I shall pray again
Until the wars are all over
And there is love among all men
8/13/2009 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Father
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?
We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,
Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.
We are just flower-buds of your garden,
And are asked for, in every household, dear father.
We are just birds from your cage,
Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.
I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;
And parted from my buddies too, dear father.
When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,
My brother fainted and fell, dear father.
As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,
I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
poem by Amir Khusro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Pure Love
His pure love
was shown
that day
at calvary.
They didn't,
take away Jesus's
life that day,
He gave it freely.
A crown of thorns
was placed on His head
blood flowed down
His face that day.
He was guilty
of no crime,
only of the
pure love He gave away.
He was mocked
and shamed,
beaten with,
so many stripes.
His face was
so bloody that
day at calvary
He tried to carry,
His cross but so
weak to do it,
Simon Cyrene was,
compelled to bear
His cross.
Jesus came into this
world to show
us His pure love,
now He was to,
really show the
world His pure
love for us, Jesus
was nailed to the,
cross that day
suffering and dying
for the sins of the
world.
Every one thought
they had seen the
last of Jesus, but
3 days later, he arose
from the dead.
After showing Himself
to over 500 people, and
telling His disciples to
spread the gospel,
He was taken up and
a cloud received Him
out of their sight,
and that is what Easter
is all about.
(4-5-07/from parts of the four gospels
and Acts chapter one verse 9)
Bastard Son's Story
I stand before you Father,
but you refuse to see
Oh dear Father, have I fallen from the tree
of your good grace, our last embrace
now a memory
Oh Father, have you forgotten me
I kneel before you Father
But you do not feel
Oh dear Father, have you forsaken me
I am your flesh and blood
Dear Father, look at me!
I am your ill-begotten history
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Dear Father
Anderson / squire
(originally released in 1970 as a single, not included on time and a word)
Here are the books
Of luke
You*ll need them
To open the seed
To see what goes on in the world
You*re in my mind
Catch the wind and hold on tight
To what we*ll find
And hear what goes on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s anything you*d like to say
That could help me in any way
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long for you to come along
Help me on that day
When you*d take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know?
Is there anything before I go?
Dear father, i*m hungry, i*m cold
Dear father, feeling terribly old
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
They*re on their own
Needing their face, a place
Hope....home
To see what goes on in the world
They*re who you need
To show them why they*re wrong
Oh why indeed
We need to go on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s any complication
That you*d like to talk over with me about
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long
For you to come along
We can work it all out
When you take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know
Is there anything before I go
Dear father, you must be putting me on
Dear father, cause most of their minds are gone
Dear father, they will not understand me
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, can I give it a miss
Dear father, cause i*m not ready for this
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, won*t you leave me alone
Dear father, won*t you to let me go home
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
Dear father, won*t they crucify me
Dear father, I just couldn*t do that
Dear father, cause that*s not where it*s at now (hey)
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Father
Anderson / squire
(originally released in 1970 as a single, not included on time and a word)
Here are the books
Of luke
You*ll need them
To open the seed
To see what goes on in the world
You*re in my mind
Catch the wind and hold on tight
To what we*ll find
And hear what goes on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s anything you*d like to say
That could help me in any way
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long for you to come along
Help me on that day
When you*d take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know?
Is there anything before I go?
Dear father, i*m hungry, i*m cold
Dear father, feeling terribly old
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
They*re on their own
Needing their face, a place
Hope....home
To see what goes on in the world
They*re who you need
To show them why they*re wrong
Oh why indeed
We need to go on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s any complication
That you*d like to talk over with me about
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long
For you to come along
We can work it all out
When you take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know
Is there anything before I go
Dear father, you must be putting me on
Dear father, cause most of their minds are gone
Dear father, they will not understand me
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, can I give it a miss
Dear father, cause i*m not ready for this
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, won*t you leave me alone
Dear father, won*t you to let me go home
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
Dear father, won*t they crucify me
Dear father, I just couldn*t do that
Dear father, cause that*s not where it*s at now (hey)
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hanging from a Blood Soaked Tree
Hanging from a Blood Soaked Tree
By: Adam M. Snow
One morn as under a great tree I lay,
Misery held me in its pain-filled sway.
I dreamt of a life where I wasn't numb,
Sleepwalking my way toward the dusk to come.
I felt sweat drops that I thought were rain,
And opening my eyes, saw a man hung in pain.
His feet were crossed and his arms stretched wide;
I could see no life in this man. Had he died?
Arose a voice from the blood soaked tree,
'I died for you so that you are free.'
I sat there stunned in my ignorant sleep,
My curiosity teased by a tree that speaks.
I lingered in repose, knowing not what was said;
Clinging to the echoing voice in my head-
'I did this for you.'
With eyes of blue-
He wept.
His head was pierced with thorns claw-like,
And each hand was nailed by a rusty spike.
He calls to me by my name,
I couldn't help it but show my shame.
Words arose from his lips,
As his blood still drips.
His voice so dear,
So pure, so clear;
Spoken once more-
His voice was dear as it said to me,
'I died for you so that you are free.'
There then rose a light, blinding as the morn;
'Fear not, ' he said 'For I am reborn'
'Behold, ' he said, 'My blood is made pure,
I am not dead, I am dying's cure! '
His voice drew near, and whispered he:
'I died for you so that you are free.'
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cross Of Thorns
Dont come closer, cos it aint safe here,
Just turn around now and walk away.
Ive gotta tell you, there are no rules here,
Sometimes I wonder, what goes on there,
Behind those-eyes.
Chorus:
When a promise is broken, and no one trusts you,
Young ones crying with their heads in their hands,
When you talk about saving, the souls of the faithful,
You cant help thinking, youve got blood on your
Hands.
From a cross of thorns.
Tongues of fire always talking, wasted words that
Ring in my ears.
Were still waiting, losing patience, will all the
Lies of, 400 houndred years.
Ive got to tell you, there are no rules here,
Sometimes I wonder, what goes on there,
Behind those-eyes.
Chorus
We gave you yesterday, and now you want to-day,
Oh, from the hands of death we take our daily bread,
Now all we do is choke, and the words that you once
Spoke, fade away.
Look at what youve done, oh, its a cross of thorns.
Take away, this cross of thorns, look at what youve
Done.
Its a cross of thorns, cross of thorns.
When a promise is broken, and no one trusts you,
Youve got blood on your hands, from a cross of
Thorns.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Trial
The Great Trial
By: Adam M. Snow
Taken in nights stillness, after a prayer he had spoke,
To be tried for the wrongs he did not commit,
The jury laughed and ridiculed, to them he was a joke,
They let a guilty free, for him, death befit.
His punishment was great and brutal,
Whip was lain lashing, flesh was torn,
In agony he suffered, relief futile,
His fate sealed, the day he was born.
Given a crown of many thorns upon his head,
And a cross he must carry to Calvary peak,
The crowds they spat as Jesus bled,
To his knees he fell; cold and weak.
Another came to carry the cross,
Head down avoiding the hail of stones,
The angry inflamed crowd would toss.
On and on Jesus dragged his bones.
On Calvary hill the crowd does wait,
His wounds too many to be counted,
Three driven nails will seal his fate,
Upon the cross he was mounted.
The thunder rolls; a lightning flash.
'Forgive them Father, ' his last breath.
His side is pierced and soldiers lash,
Blood no longer red; marks his death,
His blood shed, the sinners freed.
Placed in a tomb, soon to revive,
Mary to mourn with flowers she carried,
An angel spoke 'Christ's not here, he's alive.'
Three trimesters of morn, noon and night,
He settled in an earthly womb.
But his spirit was brilliant with light,
When they opened the door to his tomb.
The word went forth “Christ lives! ”
“Salvation his sweet spilt blood gives! ”
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dyer's Eve
Dear Mother
Dear Father
What Is this Hell You Have Put Me Through
Believer
Deceiver
Day in Day out Live My Life Through You
Pushed onto Me What's Wrong or Right
Hidden from this Thing That They Call Life
Dear Mother
Dear Father
Every Thought I'd Think You'd Disapprove
Curator
Dictator
Always Cencoring My Every Move
Children Are Seen Bur Are Not Heard
Tear out Everything Inspired
Innocence
Torn from Me Without Your Shelter
Barred Reality
I'm Living Blindly
Dear Mother
Dear Father
Time Has Frozen Still What's Left to Be
Hear Nothing
Say Nothing
Cannot Face the Fact I Think for Me
No Guarantee
song performed by by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood of an Innoccent Little Vampire, Maria
Blood of an Innoccent Little Vampire, Maria
By, Demon
Maria,
Maria come to me,
Mom will sing a song to you that she once knew,
Far,
Far that angel did cross and he gave me my dear Maria,
Oh my Maria that I love so,
My little angel,
My angel of white and black,
My dear angel that I named my Maria,
My little angel covered in blood,
Oh my Maria what have you done,
Blood covering your whole body,
So many dead bodies on the floor,
So much blood every where on you and me,
The bite marks on our bodies,
Where did they come from my dear Maria,
The blood dripping from our mouths,
Oh my Maria what have we done,
The blood tastes so good to us,
The angel that gave me my Maria,
Wasn’t an angel he was a vampire,
A white haired demon with blood red eyes,
Our fangs paired with our angelic vampire.
poem by Demon Elwin
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Mark (Chapter 15)
As morning came, the whole Sanhedrin crowd-
Chief priests, elders and scribes, held a council;
They bound and handed him o’er to Pilate;
When Pilate asked, “Are you the king of Jews? ”
He said to him in reply, “You say so! ”
The chief priests accused Him of many things;
And Pilate asked Him, “Have you an answer?
How many things they accuse you of, Look! ”
But Pilate was amazed as He didn’t talk.
They used to free a prisoner on feast days.
A murderer called Barabbas was brought in
From prison with rebels, for murder crimes;
The crowd pressed Pilate do as was custom;
Pilate asked, “Shall I free the ‘King of Jews’? ”
He knew the chief priests had envy on Him.
They made the crowd to free just Barabbas.
“What should I do with Jesus? ” asked Pilate.
They shouted together, “Crucify Him.”
“What evil has this man done? asked Pilate.
They shouted still loudly, “Crucify Him.”
Pilate freed the murderer, Barabbas.
He ordered Jesus to be scourged and led;
The soldiers took Him to the praetorium;
In purple clothed, a crown of thorns was placed,
Atop His head and they saluted Him,
“Hail, king of Jews and struck his head by reed.”
They spat on Him, knelt as if in homage:
They mocked at Him and stripped Him off his cloak;
They dressed Him in his own clothes and led Him.
A Cyrenian passer-by, Simon
Was made to help Him to carry the cross;
They brought him to Golgotha, ‘Place of skull’!
They gave Him wine with myrrh which He didn’t take;
They cast lots for his clothes; crucified Him,
At nine o’clock in the morning that day.
‘The King of Jews’ was inscribed on the cross.
Two robbers too were crucified with Him.
Some passed by Him and said, “The man who said
He would destroy the temple and rebuild
In three days’ time. Save yourself and come down”
Let Messiah come down from cross alive,
So that we may believe He’s king of Jews!
At noon, the land was covered by darkness
Till three in the afternoon, when He died.
He cried aloud, “Eloi, Eloi, lema
Sabachthani, meaning, ‘my God, my God,
Why hast thou forsaken me in this way? ”
Some by-standers said, “He calls Elijah! ”
One soaked a sponge in vinegar and held
It up to Him to drink, upon a reed.
Jesus uttered a loud cry, breathed His last.
The veil of sanctuary was torn in two.
A centurion who witnessed how he died
Remarked, “Truly, this was the Son of God! ”
Some women stood looking from a distance;
Mary Magdalene and Mary were there;
They’d followed Him from Galilee slowly.
Some women came from Jerusalem too.
When evening came, the day before Sabbath,
Joseph of Arimathea met Pilate
And requested for Jesus’ body!
But Pilate was amazed that He had died;
Joseph brought linen cloth and wrapped Him up.
They laid Him in a tomb hewn out of rock!
A stone was rolled across the entrance then.
Both Marys watched where Jesus’ body lay!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-20-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bonescraper
There is no future for us to suture
Your life ill-fated, beat down and hated
Shot in the head, walking undead
Numb to the world, around your head
Rip my skin from my bone, I won't bleed
Rip my heart from my chest, I won't scream
Hide in the shadows, deep black, and hollow
Empty void of light cuts clean, like a knife
Damaged and torn, punctured by thorns
I've felt nothing since I was born
Rip my skins from my bones, I won't bleed
Rip my heart from my chest, I won't scream
My flesh <-> Your flesh
Your eyes <-> My sight
My pain <-> Your shame
We are the same ...
Rip my skin from my bones, I won't bleed
Rip my heart from my chest, I won't scream
Rip my skin ...
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem: Song to the Holy Cross
The cross of love:
The cross I love:
The cross I'd loved all life;
The wooden cross:
The holy cross:
The cross that bore man's strife.
The oaken cross:
The heavy cross:
The cross Jesus carried;
The cross on which
Christ Lord was nailed:
And bore man's sins indeed.
The cross of death:
The blood-stained cross:
The Savior, man, redeemed;
The cross of life's
Victory o'er death:
That souls on earth must heed.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Crucifixion of Christ
Composed, by Special Request, 18th June 1890
Then Pilate, the Roman Governor, took Jesus and scourged Him,
And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and thought it no sin
To put it on His head, while meekly Jesus stands;
They put on Him a purple robe, and smote Him with their hands.
Then Pilate went forth again, and said unto them,
Behold, I bring Him forth to you, but I cannot Him condemn,
And I would have you to remember I find no fault in Him,
And to treat Him too harshly 'twould be a sin.
But the rabble cried. Hail, King of the Jews, and crucify Him;
But Pilate saith unto them, I find in Him no sin;
Then Jesus came forth, looking dejected and wan,
And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the Man.
Then the Jews cried out, By our laws He ought to die,
Because He made Himself the Son of God the Most High;
And when Pilate heard that saying the Jews had made,
He saw they were dissatisfied, and he was the more afraid.
And to release Jesus Pilate did really intend,
But the Jews cried angrily, Pilate, thou art not Caesar's friend,
Remember, if thou let this vile impostor go,
It only goes to prove thou art Caesar's foe.
When Pilate heard that he felt very irate,
Then he brought Josus forth, and sat down in the judgment-seat,
In a place that is called the Pavement,
While the Blessed Saviour stood calm and content.
The presence of His enemies did not Him appal,
When Pilate asked of Him, before them all,
Whence art Thou, dost say from on High?
But Jesus, the Lamb of God, made no reply.
Then saith Pilate unto Him, Speakest Thou not unto me,
Remember, I have the power to crucify Thee;
But Jesus answered, Thou hast no power at all against me,
Except from above it were given to thee.
Then Pilate to the Jews loudly cried,
Take Him away to be crucified;
Then the soldiers took Jesus and led Him away,
And He, bearing His Cross, without dismay.
And they led Him to a place called Golgotha,
But the Saviour met His fate without any awe,
And there crucified Him with two others, one on either side,
And Jesus in the midst, whilst the Jews did Him deride.
Then Pilate tried to pacify the Jews, they felt so morose,
And he wrote a title, and put it on the Cross;
And the title he wrote did the Jews amuse,
The writing was, Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews.
This title read many of the Jews without any pity;
And the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city;
And the title was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin,
And while reading the title the Jews did laugh and grin.
While on the Cross the sun refused to shine,
And there was total darkness for a long time;
The reason was God wanted to hide His wounds from view,
And He kept the blessed sun from breaking through.
And to quench His thirst they gave Him vinegar and hyssop,
While the blood from His wounded brow copiously did drop,
Then He drank of it willingly, and bowed His head,
And in a few minutes the dear Saviour was dead.
Then Joseph of Arimathea sadly did grieve,
And he asked if Pilate would give him leave
To take the body of Jesus away,
And Pilate told him to remove it without delay.
Then Joseph took the body of Jesus away,
And wound it in linen, which was the Jewish custom of that day,
And embalmed his body with spices sweet,
Then laid it in a new sepulchre, as Joseph thought meet.
But death could not hold Him in the grave,
Because He died poor sinners' souls to save;
And God His Father took Him to Heaven on high;
And those that believe in Jesus shall never die.
Oh! think of the precious Blood our Saviour did loss,
That flowed from His wounds while on the Cross,
Especially the wound in His side, made with a spear,
And if you are a believer, you will drop a silent tear.
And if you are not a believer, try and believe,
And don't let the devil any longer you deceive,
Because the precious Blood that Jesus shed will free you from all sin,
Therefore, believe in the Saviour, and Heaven you shall enter in!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Friday
The Crucifixion- Jesus Spoke Seven Times
The day was Friday and time: Nine O’clock:
To Golgotha, the ‘Place of Skull’, they came;
And on the cross, they wrote His glorious name:
I N R I: in Latin, Greek, Hebrew-
‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’
And Jesus spoke for the very first time:
‘Father, forgive them for they do not know
What they are doing.” Lk 23: 34
They tore His garments and auctioned them Mt 27: 25
They mocked at Jesus, and spat on his face; Mt 27: 39
The thieves spoke angrily to him but one
Believed that Jesus was truly a king.
And Jesus spoke for the second time thus:
“Truly, I say to you, today,
You will be with me in Paradise.” Lk 23: 43
When Jesus spoke the third time, He told His mother,
“Woman, this is your son.”
And to the disciple, He said,
‘This is your mother.” Jn 19: 26-27
The robbers two, were crucified with Him;
One to His left and other, to His right;
At noon-time, darkness fell: the land turned dim;
Till three O’clock, there was not much of light;
When Jesus spoke for the fourth time aloud:
‘Eli, Eli, lema sabackthani! ’ which meant:
‘My God, My God, Why have You forsaken me? ’
When Jesus spoke for the fifth time, He said,
“I thirst, ” Jn 19: 30 and they offered a sponge with vinegar!
And the sixth time when Jesus spoke:
‘It is finished; and ‘it is accomplished’ Jn 19: 28
And when He spoke for the seventh time
It was the last and Jesus cried aloud:
“Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit” Lk23: 46
A soldier pierced the side of Jesus when,
Blood and water gushed forth from the wound!
The curtain of the Temple was torn apart
And there came upon the land, an earthquake. Mt 27: 51-54
Jesus was taken off the cross and buried. Mk 15: 46
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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Crown Of Thorns 300th
the crown of thorns pierced his skin.
he bled outside and within.
he knew that this was meant to be
so that all mankind could be set free.
although his heart and body
was full of pain
he knew the world
would never be the same.
as they laid him upon the cross
and tied his hands and feet.
he knew that soon
his father he would meet.
he felt the spikes pierce his hands
and his blood fall to the ground.
he had wanted to scream
but did not make a sound.
they then took his feet
and did the same.
but he refused to give in
and took all the pain.
the pain is for the world
that was coming to an end
and he also knew
that he was given up by a friend
and as they picked up the cross
and placed it in the ground.
he heard the screams of the others
asking to go with him
and to ask GOD above to
wipe away their sins.
the crown of thorns that
they placed upon your head.
is for all the pains
that this world will soon dread.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is God In The Picture?
Is The Lord God in your picture, or is God just a religious fixture?
Friend is Jesus Christ real to you, involved in all you say and do?
Or does The Lord God have no part, in your life or in your heart?
Has Jesus Christ become your boss, or just an Icon on a cross?
God dear friend is real indeed; who’s there for all in time of need.
You may still have Him on a cross, where He died for all the lost,
But He’s no longer upon that tree; He rose again for you and me.
God dear friend is Jesus Christ, who died to bring us Eternal Life.
Jesus Christ became a Sacrifice, to pay for men an eternal price,
The price was God’s Only Son, who paid sin’s debt for everyone.
For on that day our debt was paid, when all sin on Christ was laid.
God did this so men could know, God in Heaven who loves us so.
Christ does not need you or me, to rule and reign for all Eternity,
God is truly real dear friend; Christ is the Beginning and the End.
And even if you don’t believe, Christ loved you friend on Calvary,
However, you must believe in Him, for God to forgive all your sin.
Why turn your back on the love, of God who’s reigning up above?
Why not trust Christ who died, now reigning at The Father’s side?
Won’t you today embrace The One, God who gave His Only Son?
Why don’t you friend believe today, in God’s only everlasting way?
(Copyright ©06/2006)
Dear Ann
Dear Ann, sorry this has come to end.
I hope you will remember that moment.
That day slowly burns.
A torch that cant be blown out.
The eternal flame.
Light it an go on.
But you better remember me.
Dear Ann,
sorry this has come to end.
We did everything right.
We were overwhelmed by that which still haunts me.
A child,
A child,
A mere child.
No mercy,
No pity,
Only regret.
Take a stand
Protect those whom cant do for them selves.
Become a scapegoat for the destruction of a castle I call hope.
I can still see the sickening smile as he admit it.
I would like to kill the son of bitch.
Dear Ann, sorry that it has come to end.
I hope someday I can be forgiven.
Blood for blood.
Can you really call that love.
A morbid sense of hate.
Their was just too much at stake.
Dear Ann, sorry that it has come to end.
Ugly is revenge.
A mortared face.
Scarred for ever.
I embrace.
With an overreaction.
Was it really about self satisfaction.
I want to share in this pain.
I want us to be same.
Equals in our own domain.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Chose To Climb The Hill And Not Turn Back
'Father, not My will, but Yours be done, ' You said
then climbed the hill to the cross Your blood to shed.
There You chose to bear my pain and wear my shame
even though You were innocent and not to blame.
A load much heavier than the cross You bore
piercing deeper than the crown of thorns You wore.
You were smitten of God and forsaken too
when my sin came between the Father and You.
There lash by lash the price for each sin You paid
as all my guilt and shame upon You was laid.
Then 'It is finished, ' in victory You cried
as You bowed Your head upon that cross and died.
Deep waves of love and mercy flowed from the cross
as Your blood was poured out all my sins to wash.
They're gone as far as the East is from the West
and I'm now forgiven and so very blessed.
Because You hung there on the cross in my stead.
Because Your blood was upon the altar shed.
Because of You, Lord Jesus I can go free.
Because You chose the road to Calvary.