What comfort can luck be,
For a man condemned to die?
I wondered as I stumbled on,
Guards prodding at my sides
"Even Barrabus has a saviour,"
One guard mused jokingly,
"But who'd ever thought Barrabus,
Would receive Passover Amnesty?"
Through the maze of damp hallways,
Guards leading dragging me
Til we wretched through the final gate,
And I could not believe
That I now stood before the very ones,
I had contempted and defamed,
But now with passion to their highest court,
They were calling out my name...
How could it be this people,
I'd regarded with such strife,
With no esteem for their laws,
And even less for their lives
Now in earnest plead on my behalf,
To exchange me for this Jesus...
How they must hate Him even more....
Bits and pieces of prison prattle,
A mention now and then
Of a magicians trick or two He did,
Is all I know of Him
But some say He makes the dead to live,
And can make a blind man see
So why doesn't He save His own life now,
Instead of trading it for me?...
With regard to any Rule,
I kneel before no one
I've cheated, lied, and stolen,
Even murdered old and young
Sin just isn't my way of life,
It should be my given name
Oh why doesn't He speak in His own defense,
What could He have to gain....?
The chains have all been removed,
From around my feet and hands
I've been released into the crowd,
But I still don't understand
If He's truly who they say He is,
Then why was I set free
It's almost as if He purposed,
To pay my debt for me...
But...how could this be?
As I prepared to leave this wrathful crowd,
And forsake this dismal place
My new freedom offered me the chance,
To look into Jesus face
And in that moment everything they said,
About Him I knew was true
When He looked back at me,
Though not a word,
I think I saw His lips move...
Written by Darrell Phillips
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