(Matt. 27:15-31, Mark 15:6-20, Luke 23:13-27, John 18:39-19:16)
Who am I?
A wretch in chains
Fellow conspirators I am bound
Our guilt the Romans have rightly found
My fate is death, I deserve nothing less
I want it over, I confess
And now Another walks my way
Bloodied
But with calm and humble face
Does he belong in this place?
Beaten and bruised
Of what did he stand accused?
The Roman governor also appears
Fat and proud
He directs us outside
Would death be our guide?
We stand before a crowd
The light blinding and voices loud
"Behold! Your King"
Pilate demands a choice
It is the preparation day for the feast
One they could release
This King they surely would spare
For what merit have I to compare?
"Give us Barabbas"
Pilate washes his hands
Crucify, crucify!
None could pacify
Blood of an innocent King spilt
In exchange no longer I have guilt
They dress the Man in purple
They pierce His head with thorns
I am free
The governor did decree
But for the Man I am at a loss
For he now bears my cross
I followed the Man
There darkness came upon the Hill
I murdered to seize power
This King gives life at His judgment hour
I am set free
While He is cursed upon that tree
Who is He?
Him they call the Christ
YOU ARE READING
The God Man (and other Christian poems)
ŞiirNarrative poems that tell the story of Christ's last days through the perspective of Malchus, Barabbas, and the centurion.
