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An Easter Poem (My Passion)
by A. W. Trujillo


Flesh that was torn, from the small of his back;
by a soldiers whip every time it would crack.

Paraded down the streets, with his cross he did bare;
it was his destiny to fall, into his fowlers snare.

Spikes driven through his wrists and feet;
sacrifice of the lamb, was now complete.

A cross now drenched, with the blood of a man;
the Light of the world, the great I AM.

A crown was placed on this kings head;
king of the Jews, is how it read.

His face turned red, from the blood pouring down;
caused by the thorns that were in his crown.

Hanging in the air for all the world to know;
a spear pierced his side causing a river to flow.

"Forgive them for they know not what they do." Were the words that were spoken;
as Jesus' dying breath left him, then the gates of heaven were opened.

Three days later, there was a tomb with a rock rollen away;
Jesus is alive, and in full our debt was paid.

Jesus promises to return again some day;
riding on the clouds, shining like the sun, to see this oh how I pray.


© by A.W. Trujillo


This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact,
for non-profit ministering purposes.


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