Monday, March 29, 2010
Screaming crowds call out his name
With shouts of joy and songs of praise
They honor and they marvel,
For they've waited all these years.
A quiet night of heavy dread
He kneels there, burdened, bows His head
They sit, they sleep, unknowing
As the angels wipe His tears.
Once again the crowds cry out
But now they jeer, they hate, they shout.
He bleeds, he prays, cries out, then dies.
Earth waits, dark, cold..and then it hears
One rumbling stone, one bright descending star
The cry of death, destroyed by Life,