By Lawrence “Mack” Hall
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
Fragments of bone and flesh forever stain
The spikes, the wood, the cross, the bloody cross
Is not a cute designer collectable
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
His crucifixion takes away our sins
But the bloodstains remind us
It was our sins that drove the spikes into Him
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
There won’t be, not until the last day of all