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The king on a cross by Osunkoya O'niyi


The king on a cross

His head is thronged with crown
Neither of kingship nor of royalty
But of thorns worn into him
His mouth was made to taste wine
Neither of merry nor of joyousity
But wine mixed with myrrh
Bitter to the mouth but just to mock him
His side pierced with spear
He meant no evil, but that they meant for him
His blood gushed out... Blood, blood and water
His hand holed with nails
He's done no wrong but punished for doing right
His feet with nails hanged on the tall wooden sculpture
The king of glory in the cross
The cross made by man
Made for larcenists, made for the purloiners
The crook, the reprobate, the bugler...
The king of glory forsook his majesty
Just to climb the forsaken cross
To become a curse for the sake of his beloved
The iniquity of many he had to cleanse
The debt of all he alone should pay
His robe was torn and casted amidst stark peasants
He was mocked, humiliated and shamed, turned to public ignominy
For our transgressions, he was bruised
Yet, he counted it for joy to pay for my very sinful peccadillo
The king of glory on the cross of calvary...
Again, he'll appear but not longer on the wooden cross
Neither will he come to pay any price anon
But an appearance to take his saints
Those who fondle his love and obtained the price

The king of glory in his majesty.

Osunkoya O'niyi

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