Holy week is drawing to a close and as Christ died upon the cross let us remember He suffered in death so that we may have eternal Life.
Crown Him Our True King
Along the road he bore a cross, our sins and even more
The knowledge that His earthly life would soon cease...
Betrayed by those of trust, loved too by women of lust...
And yet a man and but a King, He was crowned one day -
Crowned Him with the thorns, humiliated further and yet
His words, "forgive then Father, they not what they do..."
Crown Him The King of Kings and share in the glory
Through the years has the journey changed?
We visit Good Friday, the day Christ died
And yet the world today seems far worse than before
Christ died, why I wonder? Why do You allow the suffering?
How can our pains, and hurts, and heartbreaks matter...
When on bent knees I fall and beg for mercy, relief
From the woe and ways of the world, a sea of tears
Shed, and not even sweet vinegar removes the stain
Mankind has placed upon the earth, filled with scourge.
A time for renewal and the rebirth awaits, a second coming?
Or the beginning of the end, does it matter, will it ever end?
The homeless wander and wonder where the next meal might be,
The battered and abuse turn their cheeks and flinch in pain...
And when God, when will mankind refrain from ill gotten ways?
Is it today Lord, the day you were crowned with thorns?
Or will it be tomorrow or the next and the next, and...
I flee the lands that birthed me for they too have forsaken me...
I stripped myself of the sins I bore and cleansed myself in Communion...
And still here are more, crosses to bear, tears to shed, and blood
To wash away yet more sins yet to be unleashed by the wrath of man,
And God, where are you? Should we endure it all as did Christ.
In scoff, the soldiers crowned Him a King, made of thorns; the women
Weeped and begged of His crucifiers to have mercy, yet in no way
Was Your Son released from the burdened of our sins, a travesty
It must have been to stand by and watch the wounds Christ endured.
Crown Him a true King, release from within this hateful world
For all eternity man's hate, crimes and wars, show us how
Tell us why crown a king and then upon his grave roll the door?
In attempting to build I fear more faith was destroyed...
So Crown Him, Crown Him the rightful King, AND in the second coming
Raise high the palm branches as he rides into the Holy Lands,
Awake in all the ability to see and share the one true light,
Please God, a humble servant, I beseech Thee, Crown Him, King.
Poems My Way Valrie 04/22/2011
Crown Him Our True King
Along the road he bore a cross, our sins and even more
The knowledge that His earthly life would soon cease...
Betrayed by those of trust, loved too by women of lust...
And yet a man and but a King, He was crowned one day -
Crowned Him with the thorns, humiliated further and yet
His words, "forgive then Father, they not what they do..."
Crown Him The King of Kings and share in the glory
Through the years has the journey changed?
We visit Good Friday, the day Christ died
And yet the world today seems far worse than before
Christ died, why I wonder? Why do You allow the suffering?
How can our pains, and hurts, and heartbreaks matter...
When on bent knees I fall and beg for mercy, relief
From the woe and ways of the world, a sea of tears
Shed, and not even sweet vinegar removes the stain
Mankind has placed upon the earth, filled with scourge.
A time for renewal and the rebirth awaits, a second coming?
Or the beginning of the end, does it matter, will it ever end?
The homeless wander and wonder where the next meal might be,
The battered and abuse turn their cheeks and flinch in pain...
And when God, when will mankind refrain from ill gotten ways?
Is it today Lord, the day you were crowned with thorns?
Or will it be tomorrow or the next and the next, and...
I flee the lands that birthed me for they too have forsaken me...
I stripped myself of the sins I bore and cleansed myself in Communion...
And still here are more, crosses to bear, tears to shed, and blood
To wash away yet more sins yet to be unleashed by the wrath of man,
And God, where are you? Should we endure it all as did Christ.
In scoff, the soldiers crowned Him a King, made of thorns; the women
Weeped and begged of His crucifiers to have mercy, yet in no way
Was Your Son released from the burdened of our sins, a travesty
It must have been to stand by and watch the wounds Christ endured.
Crown Him a true King, release from within this hateful world
For all eternity man's hate, crimes and wars, show us how
Tell us why crown a king and then upon his grave roll the door?
In attempting to build I fear more faith was destroyed...
So Crown Him, Crown Him the rightful King, AND in the second coming
Raise high the palm branches as he rides into the Holy Lands,
Awake in all the ability to see and share the one true light,
Please God, a humble servant, I beseech Thee, Crown Him, King.
Poems My Way Valrie 04/22/2011
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