Beaten, battered, bruised and torn,
Mocked and cursed, our object of scorn.
They led him through the streets of Jerusalem that day,
As he dragged a heavy cross on the way.
He was marred so bad that you could barely see man,
For from his brow crimson blood ran. Some jeering guards nearby did adorn,
His gentle brow with a crown made of thorns.
But while this cruelty went on in the streets,
It's outside the city that this story is complete.
As this man dragged his cross up the torturous hill,
He collapsesld out of exhaustion, not out of will.
So they passed off his Cross to a man standing by,
And prodded him on to lift him up high.
At the top of the hill he collapsed once more,
As if there was an unseen burden that He bore.
Then the soldiers without sense of pity or shame,
Stripped this man naked and fixed him a name.
"King of the Jews" declared the sign to the crowd,
Yet before this king not one man bowed.
Then they fastened with nails his hands to the wood,
Before lifting up the rugged Cross where it stood.
In the eyes of all, naked and bare,
not one person present could hold this man's stare.
For it wasn't with hate that he looked down on us all,
But with eyes full of mercy with which He did call.
He cried out in his agony for the forgiveness of man,
then suffered in silence till he cried out again.
He comitted His spirit on up to his Lord,
And then bowed his head and slumped 'gainst the board.
An ominous silence settled on all standing by,
As a blanket of black clouds rolled over the sky.
The ground started to shake and violently did fit,
As if the Earth below was it going to split.
A Roman guard standing by said it with his own lips,
"This man was Gods Son and we've marred Him with whips..."
We have pierced him through and spilled blood from on high,
Yet His only defense was those forgiving eyes.
We stand here condemned, Holy blood on our hands,
Murderers and liars, thieves and brigands.
What is to become of us for the wrong we have done?
Our sin has culminated in the death of God's Son!
The thought plagued me for nights, two days to be true,
Till news came from friends, once old now made new!
They told me the reason this man died on the cross,
To give up His life to seek out and save the lost.
He on the cross bore the wages of sin,
And descended to hell, my soul to win,
He has won victory over death and the grave,
So that all who believe in Him might be saved.
So be done with your guilt, let go of your shame, let condemnation fall to the ground.
For Christ has removed it for all who believe. Let the praise of his glory resound.
Where O death is your victory where O death is your sting?
For the power you held has now been expelled and crushed 'neath the foot of the king.
Thank you my lord for the mercy You gave when my life was near it's end. This privilege have I, has open my eyes, a God who calls me his friend.
