A vacant cross

A vacant wooden cross, stained and soaked in blood.
In awe and sadness they stood and stared upon,
Thinking all was lost. Though they heard him say many times before,
Destroy this temple and in three days time, it will be raised, and stand forever more. Imagine how magnificent that scene had been, when the stone was rolled away, and as was the vacant cross now a vacant tomb only a sheet lay in in the grave. The holy son had beaten death ad rose as he had said. Standing true upon his words, that who so ever believes in him shall not die, but reign eternal by his side. Jesus, the son of God and man, was made anew with the markings on his feet and hands. Amazed am I at the thought of seeing a vacant cross, for its vacancy, Christ lives in me, alive forever more, praise be to the living king, who gave is life for mine. I didn't see the cross or tomb, and still I believe it true, join me friend, in the praising him, who also died for you.