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CRUCIFIED
The sky was scorching red
A crown of thorns adorned his head
Ridged was he
Bent down on one knee
With our heavy burden he trod
Struggling up the dank sod
It was our cross to bear
For we were entrapped in Satan’s snare
He carried the cross up the mountain
And poured on mankind a fountain
Of love, mercy and grace
I will never forget his face
Torn and bleeding
The Savior we had been needing
A mighty lion not to be tamed
And yet not ashamed
Of the scorn and the mocking
Our hatred for him was shocking
They did not know what they were doing
Chanting his death, screaming and booing
A perfect lamb was he
Dying to save you and me
Dirty with the sins of the land
A nail pierced through each hand
But he did not complain
He just hung there, waiting to be slain
This memory is etched in my heart and my head
For Jesus did not remain dead
He arose on the third day
In such a miraculous way
The wound in his side and hands did remain
Now we await him to come again
And take us up with Him in the sky
To meet our Lord, God on High
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