Isaiah 53

Out of the mouth of the driest land; came forth this fertile tree

Nothing magnetic about it’s hand; rejected and shamed for thee

 

Fraught and close with suffering; clinched in the grasp of pain

Living a life collecting sorrow; removing it from my name

 

Cursed he is to take the yoke of all this on his deck

How red the mark that bleeds beneath the contour of his neck

 

The pressing of the beating and the puncture of the dart

Were displayed for all to see, the living water in his heart

 

It is we that have gone astray; feeding on our own accord

Taking no account of the iniquity, that he so graciously bore

 

Though his lips trembled softly; they never opened once

His defense came in the hearts of men; in his silence their souls he touched.

 

The clouds wailed for justice; the skies burned with fire

But there was unanimous silence, in place of legal tire

 

As odd as it may seem, this was done in perfect will

With the hands of Jehovah carving; the anguish to his fill

 

This darkness lauded within, but could not overcome the light

This glowing face confined to a weary place has ended the tyranny of night

 

What grand throne will seat this King; what jewels will crest his head

The song of suffering no longer will sing; its somber tunes of dread

 

Victory will be the cadence of his new army marching again

“Praise to the one who filled my gap and released this soul from sin”

 

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