by Kenny Fedder
For me your blood was splattered by the ones who gave you blame.
Their anger forced the whips to lash and cause deep scars of pain.
The vulgar names they called you, then spit upon your face.
Calling you to save yourself while binding you in place.
The soldiers try to break your will; the Jews want you to die.
Your mother hears your cries of pain, not understanding why.
The beating just continues on, no chance to feel relief.
Friends are watching from afar, feel only disbelief.
A crown of thorns forced on your head, your blood runs down your face.
The sign above you called you king but meant to bring disgrace.
A darker voice urging them on to cause the soldier’s rage.
His motive was to hasten death for he knew not the page.
For me you suffered and you died while nailed upon a tree.
The perfect man has taken my place; you went to hell for me.
For you I’ll begin with thank you, though merely just a start.
Then let it be my earnest cry, to hold you in my heart.
For you I’ll give my very best, the least that I can do.
For all your shame and all the pain, I’ll prove my love for you.
I’ll tell the world about you and what you did for me.
I’ve hearts and eyes to open wide before they’ll be set free.
Oh use my words and use my deeds to aid my fellow man.
Learning to be the first in line to lend a helping hand.
For you I’ll let my actions speak and may they have no end
Cause they make a stronger message, the one I need to send.
Teach me to seek with open eyes to find all those in need.
Then use my ears to listen Lord, my lips to plant a seed.
I’ll serve the one who gave it all with a life of gratitude.
Lord, let me be your instrument and use my hands for you.
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