Floods
of stone, chiseled in pain,
Welcomed
by waving palms.
Silence
in anguish, quiet in abuse,
A
prayer that forever calms.
Bone
exposed, flesh torn to shreds,
Feasting
of some embraced hearts.
And
towers stand, but guilty freed,
When
a lone light causes the darkness to part.
Riotous
hoard, and slandering names,
A
falsely accused stands on silent lips.
No
more cheers, no more feasts,
Pools
of blood filled by ceaseless drips.
Raised
to heights, crowned in thorns,
The
Father turns from the Son.
In
agony’s grip, death soon comes,
And
Jesus Christ speaks, “It is done.”
Flood
of stone, laid to rest,
A
fleshly body disposed to doom.
The
lamp is snuffed, a life now gone,
Jesus
is placed inside a tomb.
Cast
away stone, and folded cloth,
The
Savior rose up from the grave.
Angels
sing, and witnesses tell,
Jesus
Christ is no longer where He was laid.
Glory’s
done, victory’s won,
God
and Son merge in perfection.
On
Calvary’s tree, the sinner’s set free,
And
Jesus reigns at the Faithful’s final collection.
Selah 
Floods Of Stone by Ronhales Psalm 94:16