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[a google dot com image]


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


Written for Susan's prompt
Midweek Motif ~ Martyrdom / Witness