ON THAT CROSS
His arms, stretched wide in forgiveness
He tasted the gall, he tasted the bile
What had he given?
But a taste of the best wine
Fastened by sin, nails pierced his skin,
Blood and water flowed from a gash,
After all the healing love, that
Was drawn, from his touch
All Fridays be good,
For the sacrifice of blood,
Was the only price
Redemption could pay.
ON THAT CROSS © gillena cox 2016
Midweek Motif ~ Martyrdom / Witness
