A day of sorrow and so much pain,
Scourged, derided, under so much strain.
Bravely whisked from court to court,
All alone without support.
Pierced with thorns , hated and despised ,
Robe torn open and garments strowed
Hateful cries of just crucify
Echo loudly, Pilate’s voice they then defy.
Whipped with lashes, the cross he bore,
Fainting , falling and got off the floor.
Knowing that by his dying ,life would be restored
Knowing His Resurrection will not be ignored.
On the cross he bled and died.
For our sins he truly cried.
But he persevered so that things would change
Receiving eternal life in exchange.
MARYANN BOSAH 