from the cup of His suffering we drink, wash clean our hearts while we rethink


like birthing, a woman's travail, in His hands there were nails


after enduring the cat-of-nine-tails




never gave in to fear of his Father's will, upon the cross He did surely fulfill


crying "Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani", when felt He the weight of his testimony




"for it is by grace that you have been saved", not of yourselves in this day


for works alone cannot heal, what sin has instilled

as the rope within starts to fray





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nightlight1220's picture

This is beautiful. 'The

This is beautiful. 'The story' of Christ's suffering, unfortunately, so misunderstood by so many...even believers. To speak one's truth is to exist.

...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "