You saw who I was
And died for me anyways
Love was not blind.
But all knowing.
Which makes the gift,
Even harder to understand.
You knew my flaws,
My inner heart, my thoughts,
And still, gave Your life
For mine.
You Who were perfect,
Who never made a mistake,
Silently let them nail You
to a cross, a crown of thorns,
pressed into your brow,
with blood dripping down,
The white and blameless lamb,
Stained crimson red, tarnished,
instead of
me.
One Word at a Time 