In the darkest hour, on a hill so high,
A man named Jesus, prepared to die.
His body beaten, his spirit torn,
He carried a cross, so heavy and worn.

With each step he took, the crowd grew near,
Mocking and jeering, filled with fear.
But Jesus remained steadfast, his love so pure,
For he knew his sacrifice would endure.

Nailed to the cross, his hands and feet,
He bore the pain, his suffering complete.
Yet in his eyes, a glimmer of grace,
As he looked upon those who had lost their...