F L O O D S    O F    S T O N E



Floods of stone, chiseled in pain,

Welcomed by waving palms.

Silence in anguish, quiet in abuse,

A prayer that forever calms.


Bone exposed, flesh torn to shreds,

Feasting of some embraced hearts.

And towers stand, but guilty freed,

When a lone light causes the darkness to part.


Riotous hoard, and slandering names,

A falsely accused stands on silent lips.

No more cheers, no more feasts,

Pools of blood filled by ceaseless drips.


Raised to heights, crowned in thorns,

The Father turns from the Son.

In agony’s grip, death soon comes,

And Jesus Christ speaks, “It is done.”


Flood of stone, laid to rest,

A fleshly body disposed to doom.

The lamp is snuffed, a life now gone,

Jesus is placed inside a tomb.


Cast away stone, and folded cloth,

The Savior rose up from the grave.

Angels sing, and witnesses tell,

Jesus Christ is no longer where He was laid.


Glory’s done, victory’s won,

God and Son merge in perfection.

On Calvary’s tree, the sinner’s set free,

And Jesus reigns at the Faithful’s final collection.



  Floods Of Stone by Ronhales                                                                                                                                             Psalm 94:16

View this writing on designer paper.        Home