Here is to Jesus, the worlds savior, my soul longs for you:
Poverty stricken was my hell bound soul,
Burdened by eternal separation, but I did not know.
You did it not against your own will,
You were accused, but stood ever so still.
You died a death, not deserved,
You chose a life, not preferred.
All in mind, was doomed to death,
Your soul never relinquished, until that last breath.
It is finished, then before you, completed task,
In your unfailing love, youve chose, Id bask.
No greater love could humanity or I repay,
Not by good works, but faith you say.
Your burden, my burden, together kissed,
A holy intimacy, this world could have missed.
But your father asked, Is there anyone that will go?
My life is now indebted, because your blood did flow!-By Mark Michaelson