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  • Can you imagine his suffering, his torment, his pain,
    the stones beneath the pole where he was scourged bathed in blood?

    Soldiers gambling for his garments as they stood,
    ignoring cries for mercy, ignoring cries for blood.

    Storm clouds gathering, thunder's heavy flood,
    lightning's crack, and pouring rain could not stop the blood.

    No longer hid behind the veil, his mercy, pure and good,
    revealed upon the final hour, with the sacrifice of blood.

    I am to blame, he died for me, his torture understood,
    in shame and terror he atoned for my sin with his blood.

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