19/04/2025
They pierced His hands, yet still He drew us near,
A crown of thorns, yet love cast out our fear.
They mocked His reign with bitter scorn and cries,
Yet through His pain, He made the lowly rise.
He clung to the tree, became the cursed and shamed,
That we, once lost, might now be called by name.
Between two thieves, He bore what we had done,
Yet mercy spoke before the setting sun.
So we, though broken, now stand bold and free,
For in His wounds, we find our victory.
Look and Live
