Sacrifice


Desert hill and valley covered in dust,

Clay cities scattered across desolation,

A land of origins and fierce contention.


Thousands of years the law has stood,

Immense and indomitable against time,

Reverently held in the hands of pious men.


Yet the Kings of old are gone like dust,

Under a new governance the land struggles,

Render unto the Empire what it demands.


Who will answer the prayers of the people?

A revolution is prayed for by the enslaved,

Deliverance from their ruling prefect.


Unto the land a revolutionary came,

Trapped in the majesty of loving mercy,

Guided by His King into absolute greatness.


A virtuous man marked too good to be true,

Who walked the straight and narrow path,

Through the gale and on to His destiny.


Claiming a Father greater than any other,

Commanding the lame and dead to rise,

Witnessed by the blind and forgiven.


A man like no other in the sight of all,

Which the holy ten could not condemn,

But one of twelve would betray for thirty.


Taken without due process by the old law,

Questioned and convicted of being Him,

His fate sealed for the whole of mankind.


Lashed and beaten to the bone sans mercy,

Mocked and spat on by the jeering outraged,

His body losing blood and manly strength.


With drooping eyes and jaw hanging open,

He shouldered the timbers of his deathbed,

Up to Golgotha with insurmountable love.


Wearing a crown no other is worthy to wear,

He laid upon his deathbed to accept fate,

To pay the price for the past and present and future.


In a display of incomparable forgiveness,

For hours he hung in dire pain and anguish,

Blessing the repentant and those who did not know.


The sun began to set as dark clouds passed over,

His life bleeding from him until he bled no more,

His forsaken cry shaking the earth and stirring hearts.


The veil between King and subject torn down,

He was taken from the Cross and laid to rest,

And the world marveled at His benevolence.


For three days His father turned a blind eye,

The twelve mourned and became eleven,

And the Devil thought he'd won.


Until the sealing stone broke and fell away,

And the Son of God rose from His grave,

Blinding in victory over sin.