When glory broke the enemy
And death itself was foiled
He emerged from that grey tomb
More than just unspoiled,
But transformed with full authority
To show His divine power,
Share with them His victory,
Renew their hope and ours,
In life eternal in that love
That satisfies so deep,
We cannot help but dance for joy
When our souls wake from sleep.
More than the pain of torture,
More than the pain of loss,
Or of his friend’s betrayal
As he hung upon the cross,
Was the pain of separation
From the love above all loves,
That He’d known His whole existence
On His throne in heaven above.
And yet when sweating blood
In apprehension of this course,
He knelt before His Father,
And said, “Not my will, but Yours.”
We’ll never fully grasp the depth
Of his self-sacrifice
To free us from the pit we dug
By paying that great price.
When branches paved a holy road,
The stones cried out in praise,
Proclaiming the arrival
Of the great Ancient of Days.
His power held back, his glory veiled,
And yet a glimpse bled through
Of He who shines through all that’s good
And beautiful and true.
The echoes of creation
Renewed in noble song;
Acclaiming the approaching king
They’d waited for so long.
Did they known his true nature,
His purpose, or his plan,
Or what another crowd would chant,
To the great shame of Man?
The Zwyckyverse 