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Poetic Spirit
Saturday, 4 August 2007

 

CROSSed Out

All my own efforts

Even on my very best day,

Could not wipe

Any of my sins away.

 

My Creator looked on with compassion;

Stepped down into time and space;

Putting off that heavenly crown of glory;

Exchanging it for a creature's rags of disgrace.

 

Choosing that Calvary death route,

Using His own blood as ink, written on wood;

With a nail for a pen, He CROSSed my sins out,

Because I, even if I paid eternally, never could.

 

(written/created by Jeff)

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Posted by Jeff at 4:28 PM EDT
Updated: Friday, 10 August 2007 7:18 AM EDT
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