A Man was dying
on a tree,
full crucified
for you and me.
His mouth was dry,
his pain intense.
Not one had sprung
to his defence.
His closest friends
had fled in fear;
his scheming foes
stood round to jeer.
"My God! My God!
Where are you now!"
In loneliness
to death he bowed.
That loneliness,
with God away,
he took for me,
my sins to pay.
And on the glorious
Easter morn
my fears can go,
my hope reborn!
Where are you, God?
My pain is real -
when will it end?
I almost feel
forsaken, yet
I see that Man -
that more-than-Man...
His nail-pierced hands,
his love that reaches
through my pain
and gives me hope
to live again.
Held by those hands
I’m moving on,
assured
that I am not alone.