Alone on a hill

the solitary cross stands

remembering His patience

a difference made by one man

Talented wordsmith

taught with parables

lived a perfect life

no matter what the variables

Women looking like a flamfoo

feeling great pain

crying silently near Him

not understanding the gain

Death defeated

when He gave up the ghost

graves are opened

dead walking with Heavenly Host

The cross is vacant

standing on a lonely hill

calling all to remember

why His blood was spilled