Our Only Ticket
A token of love once handed down,
as His life giving blood, dropped steadily to the ground.
Horrifically abused, unmercifully accused,
nailed to the cross to suffer our dues.
Stripped of all pride, mocked and scorned,
what did He do, and what have we learned?
No crime did He ever commit, nor none did He do,
unless love has become a crime, then He was guilty that's true!
Through all His suffering that day, He still had compassion for me and for you,
through the pain of it all He asked for forgiveness for us, something He did not have to do!
As the pain reached heights so hard even for Him to bear,
He could have called down heaven to take Him out of there.
But true to bear this was the bitter cup that was placed in His hand,
an on that cross He suffered a mortal death that to this day is so hard to understand.
He was our bridge, our link, our only means of salvation,
Our Christ, our perfect love, our only true chance, our one affirmation!
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2010
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