Journey To The Hill Of Skulls Poem by Melody Iveren Kuku

His back is bent,
His heart, battered with guilt,
Red seal of sin,
Lay bare on his torn flesh.

Crawling, stumbling,
Yet struggling.
Give up says Lucifer
But though the king of hell stands on the way,
The traveller never stops.

Hot sun, scorching earth
It was told that the road to the hill was narrow,
And full of fears, each new to him.

From a far away town he had come
To reach a hill where peace dwells
And the one who had loved him
From the foundation of the world
Had hung for him.

The hill is seen at last,
A cross and his master
Whose blood flows like springs,
Who is he that this great man would die for him?

He kneels under the cross,
The blood wash his weary back,
Sin's seal is gone,
And he is lifted by the bloody arm of the one on the cross.

He sees the wounds,
The whips and pain taken for him
He rise,
A new man,
Robed in holiness.