The Slain One breathes

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They laid my Lord behind a stone, yet He wasn’t found, yea surely gone. The Pierced One walks and that again, behold the Lamb the Hope of men. No stone too heavy no grave too deep, could even try my Saviour keep. The Slain One breathes and that again, behold the Lamp the light of men. They nailed my Lord upon a tree, they didn’t know His Blood made free. The Hung One lives and that again, behold the Lord Creator of men. And now I shall not fear hell’s darkest doom, for my Saviour left an empty tomb. And at my last I’ll see this Treasure, whose worth and weight beyond my measure. Untouched by rust and safe from moth, my Saviour left a folded cloth.

 

Please note any similarity that poem has to any existing poetry was not intentional. I thought I’d take a post and reflect upon the reason for this blog, the reason I’m a Christian, the for everything. The Risen Christ.

 

Christos Anesti, Alithos Anesti.

Christ is Risen. He is Risen indeed.

 

 

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