By Lawrence “Mack” Hall

An empty cross?

                          There is no empty cross

Fragments of bone and flesh forever stain

The spikes, the wood, the cross, the bloody cross

Is not a cute designer collectable

An empty cross?

                          There is no empty cross

His crucifixion takes away our sins

But the bloodstains remind us

It was our sins that drove the spikes into Him

An empty cross?

                          There is no empty cross

There won’t be, not until the last day of all