Rusty old chains
Rusty old chains on my hands and feet,
Leather whips which I have been beat.
Laying in this hot weathered sun,mouth so completely dry,
With no water,I know I will soon die.
Blood on my body,that is dried on my skin,
With bruises and scars deep within.
My days are getting very thin,and running out of time,
Was kidnapped left for dead,in this deadly crime.
Praying that someone will find me soon,
The sun is beating down,and its almost noon.
I close my eyes and maybe I will sleep for a little while,
I see a bright light,and see Jesus with a smile.
He takes hold of my hand and I see the heavenly gates,
I guess no one came,now it's to late.