Many say that it was the Jews
Who crucified You that day.
It was I.
It was I who held the scourge
That tore Your flesh to pieces.
It was I who also mocked you
As the soldiers called you "king".
It was I who forced the crown
That was made of piercing thorns.
It was I who hammered the nails
Into Your pure hands and perfect feet.
It was I who caused Your heart to
Rupture with great sorrow and grief.
And it was I who speared Your side
To assure the crowds of Your death.
For when You hung on that cross,
You looked beyond the physical crowds,
And into the future's years. Eternity.
There You saw me, and loved me.
You endured the suffering for me.
It was I;
My sin crucified You that day.