AT THE CROSS BY TRUSTONE

*AT THE CROSS*

At the cross,
My sin was crushed,
My self nailed to the tree,
He paid it all and set me free.
Who am I to be dead for?
Mere human whom He sought,
My Lord,beaten and spilled on,
But surely reigning in His throne.
In sin did my mother conceived me,
My sin reaching to the peak,
Still in His mercy came down to save,
To avoid the impending wails.
Grave has no power or dominion over Christ,
The thorns and the stings of death scrapped,
He reigns in His Majesty,
He is Mighty.

*HAPPY EASTER MONDAY*
©2017

 

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Author: Judaisky

Judaisky is a young writer who believes the world can only be saved PEACEFULLY through the tidings of the ink cos the pen is mightier than the sword. Do You want to know more about me, contact me 09039956005

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