My Lord

Walking through the crowds of people

his face of serenity and calm,

Enjoying the fresh thrown flowers,

And the feeling of the palm

Cheering people praise the prophet

for he knows the way to salvation,

Onward they follow and listen to his words

for they will enter God’s creation

One man comes to kiss him

to betray his faith and trust,

He will hang by his feet and hands,

until the nails slowly turn to rust

Buried in a tomb,

he rises on the third day

and we will always kneel,

In silence we will pray.

By Nick Sym