The Centurion

This day was to be like any other day, just another duty to perform
Overseeing some common criminals, which to society would not conform
To watch his soldiers hang them on a tree, for all be displayed on a cross
The cruelest punishment for these men, to have life slowly traded for loss

When he read the sign for the center One, proclaimed the king of the Jews
He shook his head in wonder, for that Man was covered in black and blues
Most of the crowd mocked and jeered Him, a few shed a tear of grief
Soldiers cast lots for His cloak, as the priests scoffed at Him for His belief

Then he looked up at Him, expecting to see some hatred or despise
What he saw was a calmness, and nothing but compassion in His eyes
He felt to the core of his being, this was, without doubt, an innocent Man
Why didn’t the others see it, if one so simple as he could understand

Suddenly the ground began to tremble, as if the whole-wide world shook
And in those final moments, gave everyone, then himself, one last look
Then looking up toward the heavens, He spoke with His final breath
“Into Your hands, Father, I commend My spirit,” and yielded unto death

And something welled up inside him, coming from deep within his heart
He knew that if he did not let it come out, it would surely tear him apart
Having looked into eyes of Jesus, knowing what must be said, gave a nod
Speaking solemnly to everyone, he said, “This surely was the Son of God.”

    Matthew 27


© May 2011