Carry His Cross
Every step’s a struggle. Each breath’s a pain
to draw in through cracked and bleeding lips pursed,
catch that drop of sweat rolling down the plane
of his face. He must go, ‘fore his heart bursts
from the burden he carries, the cross bearing
down on his shoulders with each step, each new sin
heaped upon the rest. Each fall is tearing
at his soul but he doesn’t despair, in
his last hours of agony, he knows
that his fate’s one with those who’ve gone before.
This crucifixion is not just his own,
its an echo of one long past who bore
the sins of all on his head, and he gets up,
he goes on, ’cause his Lord’s called him to go up.