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AN EASTER TALE
From the plains to mount Calvary
there's a tale that remains a mystery,
of how one man, for our sins, alone made the pay;
For our souls to redeem, he paved the way.
Scorns and ridicules he suffered.
His dreams for himself were all shattered.
A pure heart that bled for our soul's to redeem;
His love for us flowed like a stream.
On the cross he was nailed without doing any wrong;
A burden he was made to carry for long.
The lashes that he braved left scars wide and deep.
He carried our cross so we can have a sound sleep.
Blood and water flowed from his side
to wash the stains of our prejudice and pride.
May his deeds be not left forgotten like past,
for, he gave up his life for our glory to last.
Easter Poetry Contest
6th place
Copyright ©
R. B. Cawis
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