Crown of thorns upon his head,
With nought but hate his soul is bled,
His tears they fall onto the ground,
His last breath dies without a sound.

Blood filled hatred in their eyes,
They feed upon his noble cries,
Crimson pools they swim within,
Not knowing of their major sin.

But their crime is not toward the higher,
Nor the blood from their messiah,
Abhorring torture to their kind,
Their sin is of their hearts so blind.

And blackened shadows loom inside,
There is no way for them to hide,
Out they will seep with deep lament,
As into darkness they are sent.

So close your eyes and look not at pain,
Think for now of the life he has lain,
Forgiveness he pleaded with his very last breath,
Pray now for his soul and the life he has left.

 
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