A Good Friday Poem

Psalm 22

Psalm 22

Man of sorrows, God forsaken,
On yourself my sins have taken,
Groaning in my place.
Crying out; does heaven hear?
Pain and anguish, grief and tears,
Atonement for our race. 

Mocked, despised, the people stare,
Scorn and ridicule; no one cares,
This man unjustly dies.
“He said he is God’s only son;
If he is, then let that One
Answer from the skies.” 

People circle ‘round the scene,
“Crucify him!” loud they scream,
“He deserves the cross!”
Be not, O Lord, too far away,
Quickly be my help and aid;
To dogs I’m glibly tossed. 

Still, I know my purpose clear,
I keep my dear beloved ones near,
Salvation to bestow.
All the earth shall bend the knee
When the Son they clearly see;
In worship they will bow. 

Posterity will serve the King,
The King of kings, as heaven sings,
Raised and glorified.
People generations hence
Will celebrate deliverance,
For Christ, Messiah lives!

 

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