Golgotha

The cross on that hill
beckons me still
to climb to the place
where I may find grace

For my journey has begun
in search of the one
to free me from sin
and the mess that I’m in

I know if I seek, I will find
leave the rest of me behind
but my footsteps do falter
since running from the altar

The cross on that hill,
it calls out my name,
to lay down my arms
though the scars, they remain.

© The Drummer Poet
14/09/2012

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