Poem written after Easter camp, enciphered by one of the speaking saying that Jesus could have died in the dust where he fell on the way to the crucifixion, but he didn’t – he fought on

Poem written after Easter camp, enciphered by one of the speaking saying that Jesus could have died in the dust where he fell on the way to the crucifixion, but he didn’t – he fought on...

You Didn’t.

You could have died in the dust

But you didn’t

You could have forgone the cross

But you didn’t

You could have stopped all your pain

But you didn’t

You could have been glorified before that day

But you didn’t

You fought,

On for me, on for love

You fought,

For every single one of us

You chose to take the road of pain

You chose to help me live again

You chose to stand, you chose to fight

You chose to be with me through the night

You chose to be price for sin

You chose to let your blood ran down,

The cross that separated you from man

The cross that washed away my stains

The cross that brought you a world of pain

And on the cross, you chose to be

A saviour, a fighter, my one true king

On that cross, your loved poured out,

A deep crimson river of blood flowed,

For my sins, I no longer owe,

My debt was paid with your life

The only worthy sacrifice

And on that cross, your life ended

While mine had just began,

On the cross, me life was mended
While yours was thrown away

Only for you to be glorified

Risen again, in three days.

Yet you could have died in the dust,

Where you fell to your knees in what seemed like defeat

You could have spilt your blood in that dust,

To give the fight and let them all win

But you didn’t

You fought

And that

Is the love of a saviour

That

Is the love

Of the one true redeemer.