Calvary

The Cross of Christ laid on the ground And Jesus closed His eyes, His beating heart the only sound That He could realise... They held Him down and nailed Him fast As He screamed out in pain, His blood ran cold, for now, at last, He knew He would be slain... The Cross of Christ was hoisted up, With Him, the Romans' toy, They offered Him the drug-filled cup, Some mercy to employ... But He refused to dull the ache, The horror and the fear, He knew the sacrifice to make And kept it pure and clear... The Cross of Christ was where He stayed, No angels rescued Him, They humbly watched as Christ obeyed Before God's seraphim... The Father stared from Heaven's Throne, At Christ who wore a crown, Forced there by Roman hearts of stone, Now gambling for His gown... The Cross of Christ was hid from sight As God's Love looked away And turned that sacred day to night As He kept tears at bay... One angel wept, then all joined in And God wept tears as well. This was the sacrifice for sin... So we'd not go to Hell... The Cross of Christ was where He died, That place called Calvary, That green hill far away supplied, That haunts eternity... That day when Mary's heartbeat stopped In unison yet lived, That time the Saviour's head had dropped, With death His precious gift... The Cross of Christ still bore His Blood, Though Christ was in His tomb And God observed that holy flood, With hatred and with gloom... Yet Christ had prayed, forgive them all, They know not what they do... So God sent preachers like Saint Paul, Because Christ died... for you... Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.