Good Friday Poems | Examples of Good Friday Poetry

Chain Letters as Desire

Instant the command 
As decisions 
In labouring the fields
A civil war of family's avoiding 
Yet the enactments mimic
As bond as surety 
In financing burdens
One wishes not to carry
Carriage as stable
Nightingales lost fables
Ferry in twist 
Smirking gentle and smits

To the good Friday of Ireland

A Light in My Darkest Night

My dear friend, who shines my way,
Lead my steps when I go misguided.

Your words like lanterns in my gloomy night,
Turning all my wrongs slowly into right.

In every second of gloomy night,
You bring the stars to make that things bright.

With kind words and gentle light,
You guide my heart to peaceful sight.

My dear best friend, so pure,

FREE THE UNBORN FROM DEATH

End the death of the unborn, and protect them from receiving any harm. 
Made by choice and killed by force. 
We should all remember that we were once in that spot. 
Love and kindness should be given to the unborn until they are born. 
No harm or death should be given to someone who has

What's Good About Good Friday

To mortal minds, there is no way
that what took place on that dark day
when someone good in every way,
was crucified by hands of clay
could be thought good in any way.

God’s works are good in every way
 was echoed each creation day.
Man formed from clay on the sixth day
was very good in every way
yes, this is

Good Friday

Good Friday mourning
pondering the sacrifice
that was made for all

An Easter Tale

Who killed Christ the Lord?
It was not me said Herod, I did not spill his blood.
I tried to kill him once it’s true
but he was a baby then and was not slew

Who killed Christ the Lord?
Nay, not I said Caiaphas, it was not one of us.
Verily I say it was not by my hand
but by

The Reason We Praise

He asked, in Gethsemane, if there's another way
If sin can be recompensed without His blood to pay
But silence answered as He prayed
The world held its tongue, as if to say
"There is no other way."

The narrow road that stretched ahead
Was paved by the ugly sting of death
That drew His blood at every tread
And thorns of sin,

after the suffering

opposite
of you
dying peace
worth more pain and sacrifice
unlearning how i was 
fighting the illusion
of meaning
devout, submission
to the selfish
leaves
i have loved

My Sweet Lord!

How does the hymner sing of God's measureless love through quadruplets-
Fine craftsman of fields, flowers, fountains of water, mountains, and sun-
Who practiced self-denial, till blood sweat, for the honor of thieves
apportioning second chances like sweet nectar while He came undone?

Why does the scribe pen his worship to the Universal Maker,
Compiling pages of effusive love notes

Magic Strom

Verse: (32 bars)

Yo, listen up I'm bout to set your mind free, with a rhyme spree Gravity heavy, pull you in, let my mind bleed Expressive poetry, purposeful wisdom in my arsenal Multiverse theories, monumental reflections beyond college

Shine the light on what's right In the darkness, we walk hand in hand through the night The

Session with Sheena

Verse 1
Oh, my Lord, Your love never ends
In Your embrace, my soul transcends
From dawn till night, You hold my hand
A constant guide, Your love's unplanned


Chorus
Forever faithful, You've been true
Your goodness flows, it's me and you
With every breath, I'll sing Your praise
The goodness of God fills all my days


Verse 2
Through fire and storm, Your voice I

Eye open

Hellfire Whispers

[Verse 1]  
Mad as thunder, shadows dance,  
Kisses sharp like thorns of chance,  
Blood like blackberry wine drips slow,  
Fallen angel, your secrets glow.  

[Chorus]  
Whispers smoke on quartz ash night,  
Orange blossoms in devil's sight,  
With white roses, honeysuckle dreams,  
Claim my soul with

And the Cross

And the Cross
Crying in the cruel wind
And they didn’t care
While the Truth
Waited
Silent
For the third day.
                                        

Morning Poem No One

It will be a cloudy semi cool day
No hot sun to broil you today
Holocaust Harris is the VP ‘s new name
She’s  a Zionista, she ain’t ashamed
Love the alliteration of that name
Will she have blood on her hands,will she feel 
shame?
I saw workmen carrying moving bins
The bins being empty-the day begins
I smelled  from dirty

Desperate prayer from a suffering husband

His wife sang so bad, he prayed god to make him deaf,
He said “oh God, or let her elope with my chef,
if she goes i will be so glad,
the chef cooks good shall miss him bad,
forgive! if I pray with words beginning with F!

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