THE DAY OF DAYS

Soldiers tortured him and had him stripped.

Then he was kicked, punched, and whipped

They put a crown of thorns on his head.

And he cried out in pain… as he bled.

“Are you really the Son of God?” the soldiers mocked.

As he carried his cross into the street

He was bruised and bleeding

from his head to his feet.

He was weak from the beating

And he stumbled and fell.

“PICK UP HIS CROSS!”

They heard the century yell.

“Is he the Son of God?” the century laughed.

As they arrived at the site

the crowd gathered round,

With insults of anger n spite,

and echoing hammers the only other sound.

Two robbers were also hung at the site,

one on his left and one on his right.

His mother n friends at the foot of the cross

Crying in agony over their loss.

Every demon on earth was there to see

They thought this was their victory.

Their presence alone influenced the crowd,

with anger and hate, they became very loud.

“If you’re the Son of God, come down,” they yelled

As he hung on the cross

It was an awful sight.

Then the clouds came

and turned day into night.

Soon there was lightning and thunder so loud,

It struck them with fear, every heart in the crowd

 “It is finished!” he announced from the tree,

Then all of the demons began to flee.

The earth began to tremble and shake

With the demons gone the crowd was awake.

Quietly leaving, beating their chests in shame 

They knew that they were to blame.

That same century, hand raised high

Turned to his men, a tear in his eye.

Then he began speaking to his squad

 “This man was truly… the Son of God!”

Jim Olson