Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2015
Parading through Jerus'lem's holy way
Two criminals and one redeemer king
Struggled through the horde, indignant fray
To hill of Skulls, their judgment for to bring.
The sand burned coarse as fire on bloodied skin,
As holy muscles strained to lift the tree,
But ev'n more weight added from our sin,
Upon the shoulders of the precious He. But as they reached pained blessed Calvary's peak,
And air eluded His life-giving lungs,
He lost his life with one great final shriek,
And perm'nent placed his name on watcher's tongues.
He drank the cup of wrath, and tore the veil,
So forever we'd delight in Good Friday's tale.
William Wiley
Written by
William Wiley  Birmingham
(Birmingham)   
  1.6k
   Alyssa Underwood and M
Please log in to view and add comments on poems