Who
is this who mocks,
Who is this who scorns,
Who is this who makes for me,
A crown of prickly thorns ?
A crown of prickly thorns ?
Who
is this who whips,
Who is this who flays,
is this who whips,
Who is this who flays,
Who is this who bruises me,
Until I'm in a daze ?
Until I'm in a daze ?
Who
is this who injures me,
With nails through my hands,
With nails through my hands,
Who with spike impales my feet,
While no-one understands ?
While no-one understands ?
Who
is this who wounds me,
With barbs around my head,
With barbs around my head,
Who is this who makes me bleed,
And suffer 'til I'm dead ?
And suffer 'til I'm dead ?
Who
has worn this crown,
Who has known its pain,
Who has known its pain,
Who has died like Jesus when,
He took away our shame ?
He took away our shame ?
Tell
whoever mocks,
Tell whoever scorns,
Tell whoever scorns,
Tell these I forgive them all,
Beneath my crown of thorns.
Beneath my crown of thorns.
Everyone
who wounds me,
And messes with my head,
And messes with my head,
Everyone
who makes me bleed,
I bless them back instead.
I bless them back instead.
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27-07-05
wow i like your poem and i hope that im the one to make a good or a better writers someday...im so inspired with your poem that you write..awesome
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