Passion

These are days when the valley is all around us,
And the mountaintops are nowhere to be seen,
And we can't see where we're going,
Only know the places where we've been,
And the road stretches onward.

Our tears water the ground around our feet,
Sometimes it takes it all just to take just one step,
And does the pain cloud our sight so much,
We cry just to let go and give up,
And the road stretches onward.

But all this is but an echo of one far greater than I
And do I forget whose footsteps I walk in,
And this cross I carry on my back,
Is nothing compared to a whole world's sin
And this life that feels poured out,
Was never a ransom for any other,
And this blood of mine was never shed,
Thorns never forced upon my head.
And without the sacrifice of the one who went before,
What is this broken walk even for,
And none of my lamentations would be heard if he'd given in,
And carried that cross no more.