Thirty-Nine Lashes

Thirty-nine lashes,
taken for me;
piercing His skin,
taken for thee.

Thirty-nine lashes,
He must stay alive;
the crack of the whip,
He must still survive.

Thirty-nine lashes,
His blood flowed free;
each gaping wound,
He took it for me.

Thirty-nine lashes,
sobbing could be heard;
His mother’s prayers wailed,
God heard every word.

Thirty-nine lashes,
no more, and no less;
what did they want,
for Him to confess?

Thirty-nine lashes,
sliced, gaping cuts;
He took them all,
no ifs, no’s, or buts.

Thirty-nine lashes,
tied to the wood;
I’m not sure I could withstand it.
Do you think you could?

Thirty-nine lashes,
given out of fear;
horror to all those,
who held him so dear.

Thirty-nine lashes,
started one, two, three:
Thirty-nine taken,
for you, and for me.

 © Leslie C Dobson

If you liked this poem, you can find additional ones on the poetry page of Leslie’s website.