There He hangs,
Pale figure pinned against the wood.
God grand that I may love Him
As I really know I should.
I draw a little closer
To share that Love Divine
And almost hear Him whisper:
'Ah foolish child of Mine...
If I should now embrace you
My hands would stain you red.
And if I lean to whisper
the thorns would pierce your head.'
And then I knew in silence
That love demands a price.
T'was then I learned that suffering
is but the Kiss of Christ."
~Author Unknown
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