Into the depths of death and despair
He fell, into the dusty depths,
Where the souls have no need for breath,
To be with the ashes, the darkness,
The unforgiven, the tormented,
To be with the ones who were chained,
Who had not seen the light.
They wanted to keep him there,
Hands grabbing and grasping,
Trying to hold the light and
escape the night,
Yet none could grasp until
Death and evil grappled with him in a fight,
So he could not make good his flight,
As he spent this one, lone night
In the shadowy auspices of silent faith.
Wrestling with him, trying to win,
Trying to overcome him with sin,
Tempting him to use the holy power to escape,
A last temptation, in this dark desert, to make,
For should he speak, angels would come
And rescue him they would,
But not a mutter was heard, no, not one.
As dawn approached, the tomb opened,
Revealing the bright presence of life
And leaving corporeal form,
He climbed back to perform
the greatest miracle ever seen.
Yet the grabbing hands grasped at his hem,
One mere touch would heal any who touched him.
Knowing his lot, he never looked back,
They pawed at the cloths that bound him,
Unshackled from the flesh that housed him,
He walked out of the tomb,
The boulder removed,
And to this realm it was obvious proof,
That death could not bind him,
Hell could not contain him,
No chains could contain him
And out of the grave he came
And somehow he did not look the same,
For victory had caused his mortality to slip,
Immortality had come and stripped
His bones of finite existence
To show only the soul’s persistence,
Bathed in the eternal light,
The dead watching him escape the night.