“Father!” he cried out again.
A son in anguish and pain, through clouds as dark as rain
Crowds below in mourning, soldiers in celebration
The hopes of a nation beaten down by powers
And now after several hours, not sure what to do.
The temples curtain torn in two.
As they continued to ask “Who?”
Who was this man we thought we knew?
Pointing fingers at them, me, and you.
Passing the blame in one moment and the next letting it go
Trying not to let it show
As the guilt began to grow, that maybe…just maybe…he didn’t belong on death row.
Maybe he really was divine, maybe that’s why the sun lost it’s shine
And as the hill of Golgotha was climbed, all of nature seemed to mourn.
And when the curtain was torn, it was more than just a sign.
As dots were connected, they saw this was expected
He’d been carrying his cross now for years.
Their tears ran like confessions down faces
As they discovered empty places once filled with hope, trying to cope,
clinging to rope that was slowly slipping away. Knowing today, everything changed.
Changing things had always been His way.
From water into wine, and from darkness into shine
The lame walked, the mute talked, and he gave sight to the blind
No one could find a man like this, but betrayed by a kiss
They were still waiting for trumpets to arrive.
And before he breathed his last he spoke, words most likely choked
through a body that was broke.
Words that shattered misconceptions, and removed power from the powers
Like clocks without the hours, or Kingdoms without towers
Like foolish men with houses built on sand, or pictures in hand of non-existing lands
The soldiers that stand listened to this man, and were humbled.
As the words that tumbled offended their ears, as he spoke through his tears..
“Father into your hands I commend my spirit.”
And it almost hurt to hear it.
They realized this man who they’d stopped from livin’
It seemed his life hadn’t been taken,
It was given.
words from wick 