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Crucifier On the day He died, I felt such shame, Quiet with remorse—too broken to name. Why did I follow the crowd of worldly men, Mocking, scorning, spitting on Him then? I was the reason He suffered that pain, I searched for comfort, but guilt would remain. I couldn’t eat, nor close my eyes to sleep, Knowing He was gone—my sorrow ran deep. When I had no one, He cared for me, But I was too hardened, too blind to see. When others ridiculed, He never took part, Every kind act came straight from His heart. He loved both the rich and the poor, He restored the broken, healed the sore. How could I have been so prideful, so blind? So cruel in spirit, so careless, unkind? Sadness and guilt clung tight to my soul, Wishing I’d taken that cup, paid that toll. Why did I point and shout, “Crucify!” Condemning the Lamb—the Most High—to die? Oh, my Judas heart, what have I done? I betrayed the Christ, God’s only Son. Ashamed of what I witnessed that day, I wept and wilted—my heart gave way. Through darkened hours, the sorrow grew, Until I knew what I must do. No longer did I wish to live, My broken life, I longed to give. Head bowed low, soul torn apart— I feared there was no clean start. But as I lifted my tear-streaked face, A luminous figure stood in grace. Could it be Him? A dream, a sign? I longed to tell Him none of it was mine. I knelt in tears, too ashamed to speak, But He looked with mercy—I felt my knees go weak. He showed me His hands—nail-pierced, divine. How He still loved me, I couldn’t define. I couldn’t face what I had done... But He held me close—I was forgiven by the Son. He said He loved me, still loved us all, That He obeyed His Father’s call. That all might live—redeemed, restored— Through mercy poured and grace outpoured. Not sentenced to Hell, but welcomed in light, To dwell in Heaven, forever in sight... Of love that does not fade or hide— To be with Jesus, always—by His side.
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