He hangs by nails
Above rocks of skull
The noon sun fails
Black clouds overfull
Three hours of dark
Three hours of pain
Three hours no spark
Three hours dark reigns
The guttural cry
The final plea
His breaths die
His Spirit rests free
Rocks slash ajar
Graves yield their saints
The earth shudders
A soldier utters:
“Truly, this was the Son of God”
Behind hewn rock,
His body stays
Earthen waves shock
Lightning strikes blaze
Two angels declare:
“He is gone; He is risen”
Women search elsewhere
For He fled death’s prison
Brighter than noon day sun
He parts the clouds
He blesses one by one
His love enshrouds
Truly He is the Son of God
