Forgive Them Father

Forgive them Father, they know not what they do,
they know not when they kill Me, they torture You.
Though they're our children, good ones are still few.
That is why I came, did what I HAD to do.
On earth born a Jew ... birthed Your Word anew.
Forgive them, fallen angels led them astray,
made them blind to black and white, they see things 'gray'.
Humans barely get by, despite what they say,
lack conviction, many simply want to play,
waste their lives away.  The Devil they'll pay!
Forgive them Father, they're free souls in the wind
not knowing where to go or where they've been.
I've preached, tried to teach, them righteousness from sin.
Give Me time, dear Father, to bring lost lambs in
from fields where they've been.  To Me ... they are 'kin.'
Forgive them Father!
They know not what they do!

copyright 2004 Sandra S. Corona
"An Artistic Appreciation of Jesus," book 2