A True Fathers Gift

Our Father's prize,
is more beautiful than the crimson sunrise.
More stunning then the morning fog of the
diamond color,
Into the abyss your mind goes trying to contemplate his wonder,
We go mad thinking why humans?
He gave the world freedom,
thus he transfixed all demons.
He faced thorns, nails and whips,
even the sun and moon embraced each other as an eclipse. The vial was torn as the heavens morn.
He suited himself with flesh and blood,
his precious face spat on and smeared with mud.
He defeated the cross,
the devil screams for his wills loss.
As he is hong on the cross with a crown of thorns.
He prays to the Lord, “May your will be done.”
There the battle was finished.
All hope rejoice, for the will of the Lord replenished.
That my brothers and sisters, God's love is not a little whisper.
It is a true fathers gift.

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This Poems Story

I am trying to contemplate my feelings about why and how God would want to die for us Humans. Also my feeling about it