In the faded twilight it stands alone,

A single candle stretching its

Shadow with a moan.

Arms bent and lips scarred,

Its body is worn.

While opened to the heavens,

It seems empty and torn.

So simple and plain,

What use would it serve?

No purpose…fire, destruction

Is all it could deserve.

Can it be?  One last time,

Filled to the rim.

Then a hand from the center,

Could it really be Him? is!  But wait,

Not just The One?

“Drink from it, all of you”,

Declares Him, who is the Son.


Worthless, forgotten, like the cup am I.

For without Christ, I’m born to sin,

And will surely die.

But by His blood,

I become His treasure,

And like the cup now filled,

Will serve Him with great pleasure!


The Cup by Ronhales                                                                                                                                                                            Matthew 26:27-28

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