What is the emblem of love?
Is it the red of a rose in full bloom?
Yet its beauty is lost soon after.
Is it the gold which wraps around your finger,
The perfect representation of commitment,
Yes is easily lost and forgotten?
Is it the warmth and gentleness
Of a lone candle,
easily extinguished with a passing breeze?
Is it a loving kiss,
Recklessly given by the one who betrayed?

Nay.
The insignia of love
is much more tangible;

It is the red of a Man's blood,
Which purified a heart like mine
Washed away the muck in my life,
All my filthy deeds erased
Like ink from white paper.

It is the flesh of a Man's body,
One who was faultless and pure,
Who placed in my hands, a gift

Three bloody nails, and a crown of thorns
His sacrifice; my debt is paid.

But the price was high;
Flesh was
Lashed, flogged, and scourged to the bone,
Innocence mocked
Taunted, and spat upon,
He took it all, a cross on His back
Proclaiming His love for me
To the world.


O my King, what can I ever do to repay you?
Nothing I can do will ever suffice.
My sacrifices are but shadows
For there is no greater love than this,
That a man lay down his life for his friend.