The Friday Called Good


Which of me is real,

and which is the hoax?

Lies parading as truth,

nightmares pretending to be certain,

make down look high

and sky resemble grave.

Just such a grave once swallowed the Truth,

spat on Hope,

beat Justice into submission;

my fists flailed Saviour,

my arrogance gripped hammer.

As Dark grew blacker still,

Light split its circumference,

and the worst Friday in history



11 comments on “The Friday Called Good

  1. Judy says:

    Beautifully expressed. Thank you.

  2. Glenda Mills says:


    Beautiful truth…we all must get there where we realized our sin put our savior on the Cross…yet even before there was sin, God planned to send a Savior. What Love is this…oh my soul…oh my soul…what love is this, O my soul!

  3. Light did break through all matter, all closed doors and dead hopes with His bloody pore, spikes and grace gurgles !

  4. Gallivanta says:

    And how wonderful was that!

  5. lvsrao says:

    Excellent Expression.

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