Crimson Drops

They have put a thorn of crowns on His brow
Crimson drops roll down His cheeks
And under the purple robe
His back bleeds

Lift up the thorns, still dripping clots of gore
They scourge Him creating a river of red
That splashed upon the floor
Without remission, His blood shed.

Flung to the hard ground
To wood, hands and feet nailed –
He made not a whimpering sound
Nor did He flinch or flail.

They pierced His side
Running forth blood and water
On that cross, He died
And this pleased the Father.

The spotless Ram,
Perfect sacrifice
The blood of the Lamb,
Lord Jesus Christ!


Mark his brow-they have put about it a crown of thorns, and the crimson drops of gore are rushing down his cheeks! . . . But turn aside that purple robe for a moment. His back is bleeding. ..They lift up the thongs, still dripping clots of gore; they scourge and tear his flesh, and make a river of blood to run down his shoulders! This is the shedding of blood without which there is no remissionโ€ฆThey fling him to the ground; they nail his hands and feet to the transverse wood, they hoist it in the airโ€ฆBlood from his head, blood from his hands, blood from his feet. They pierce his side, and forthwith runneth out blood and water. — Charles Spurgeon


Usually, Bible verses inspire me to write, or nature. But this quote… I couldn’t help it, I had to write about it. ๐Ÿ™‚

Happy Easter! โค

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