First Strike
By Tim Russ
Quickly now I draw my sword.
Sworn to protect my savior and Lord.
I strike so sure to cleave his head.
My aim is good, he must be dead!
But no! He lives! My aim is off!
The filthy Roman soldiers scoff.
I raise my sword to strike again.
Finally our war begins!
He stays my hand, tears in his eyes.
He touches the one who rocks and cries.
The man is whole, his ear restored!
He turns to me, “Sheath your sword.”
“My time has come. I must go now.
I bring salvation. All men will bow.
I’ll pierce this flesh in sacrifice.
These men will watch and cast the dice.
Your sword, though strong, is not enough!
Its power isn’t sharp, just rough.
I bring a weapon sent from above.
I bring to you God’s holy love.
Upon the cross I’ll hang in shame.
This body they will take and maim.
My blood will flow to cleanse the land.
My weapon is God’s loving hand”
By Tim Russ
Quickly now I draw my sword.
Sworn to protect my savior and Lord.
I strike so sure to cleave his head.
My aim is good, he must be dead!
But no! He lives! My aim is off!
The filthy Roman soldiers scoff.
I raise my sword to strike again.
Finally our war begins!
He stays my hand, tears in his eyes.
He touches the one who rocks and cries.
The man is whole, his ear restored!
He turns to me, “Sheath your sword.”
“My time has come. I must go now.
I bring salvation. All men will bow.
I’ll pierce this flesh in sacrifice.
These men will watch and cast the dice.
Your sword, though strong, is not enough!
Its power isn’t sharp, just rough.
I bring a weapon sent from above.
I bring to you God’s holy love.
Upon the cross I’ll hang in shame.
This body they will take and maim.
My blood will flow to cleanse the land.
My weapon is God’s loving hand”
Copyright © 2008 Tim Russ. All rights reserved.