I am broken in my spirit,
As I stand by helplessly,
And witness the pain you suffer,
Unable to set you free.

Your blood has drenched the granite floor;
Your tormenters laugh with glee.
I look on in horror, knowing
You are doing this for me.

Lord, I’m not worth enduring this;
This is more than I can bear.
Say the word and I’ll draw my sword;
I will fight for you, I swear!

Yet you continue in silence,
Through the torture and the pain.
They tear the flesh from your body,
As they mock you with disdain.

The torture has lasted hours,
And though you can hardly stand,
These men are not yet satisfied,
‘tis your life they now demand.

With your cross upon your shoulders,
You are marched toward your death.
Through tear filled eyes, I cannot see,
And can scarcely catch my breath.

As nails are driven through your hands,
Your blood splatters on my robe.
And I can’t recall another,
Who has suffered so, since Job.

You must be in such agony,
I can’t imagine your pain.
The skin was ripped from your body,
Yet, not once did you complain.

And now you hang there on that cross,
On display for all to see.
Words can’t express the way I feel,
For what you went through for me.

So please accept my gratitude,
For the price you had to pay,
In giving me the chance to live,
And come home to you one day.

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