Painting by James Tissot
So glad that I could do it
In fleeting gasps of pain
With arms outstretched
On Roman beams
And clouds begun to rain.
The One beside me
Shows no hate
His Mother down below
And eye meets eye
As oft before
They held each other so.
But this is not a common crowd
The holy men preside
And urge the rabble's
Thirst for blood
Most likely they had lied.
"A King", they mock,
"And is your Court
A bloodied perch and crown?"
Oh Saviour, time to save yourself
Display your power
Come down!
But death is part
And parcel yet
You have your Father's word
And you beseeched the darkening sky
And He most surely heard.
And I with scarce the breath to spare
And justly here for crime
Turn to you King
And gladly sing
Your  pardon, Kingdom mine.
Luke 23: 43


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