He bore the cross and went forth To the place called

the Skull The sentence reached its cruel height The soldiers led

him on Two others raised beside him Jesus placed

between The king was lifted over earth Where judgment could be

seen

Pilate wrote the

title Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.

Three languages carried it near the crowded city road. The

priests demanded softer words, right that he made the claim.

Pilate closed the argument, what I have written.

I have written Soldiers

took the garments for portions at the cross The seamless coat

was left entire Then given unto lots The scripture stood

inside the act Though hands did not intend They parted close

among them Cast lots for what remained Line after

line fulfilled Though cruelty held the pen The written word

was moving Through the work of unaware men.

His mother stood beside him, the faithful women near, the disciple

whom he loved received a final charge. Woman,

behold thy son.

Then behold thy mother came Even beneath the weight of death

He made a household out of pain

After this, knowing all things were accomplished

That scripture might be fulfilled I thirst

A vessel held the vinegar Hyssop raised it

to his mouth He received the final bitter Then the completed

word came out It is finished Not abandoned, not unfinished

The work reached its appointed end It is finished, he bowed

his head And gave up the ghost

Preparation urged the rulers No bodies through the Sabbath high The

soldiers broke the other legs But found that Jesus had already

died No bone was broken in him A spear entered his

side Blood and water came immediately And the witness testified

Line after line fulfilled Not one bone would be broken

They looked upon the pierced one The scripture had been spoken

The witness gave true record So another heart might trust

Joseph came in secret Now courage faced

the day He asked Pilate for the body And carried it

away Nicodemus brought the spices Myrrh and aloes in great

weight They wrapped him in the linen By the Jewish burial

way A garden held a new tomb Nobody laid

there yet Because the sepulcher was near And preparation

pressed They laid Jesus there

The garden became still