A Portrait of Jesus

Who believes our message?
To whom that God has revealed;
Having the right of passage,
Through the gate that has been sealed.

He grew up in His presence,
Merely like as a young tree;
The vital part in essence,
Rooted for making us free.

He had no form of beauty,
That would make us look at Him;
Not someone of royalty
But having a spiritual vim.

Merely a regular guy,
No features to desire;
But somewhat humble and shy,
With preaching to admire.

They despised and rejected,
Some of the things He did say;
He merely redirected,
Who tried to make Him their prey.

He was a man of sorrow,
Familiar with suffering;
But had faith in tomorrow,
Reigning in Heaven as King.

He was despised by all those,
People who turned their faces;
Since He wore normal clothes,
Not worthy of embraces.

Surely He bears our griefs,
And suffered through the sorrow;
But all with the same beliefs,
Will see a new tomorrow.

All of us have strayed like sheep,
Each one has gone his own way;
Ungodly dreams in your sleep,
As the world leads you astray.

He had never spoke a lie,
And unjustly set His fate;
But we will be asking why,
On that day and be too late.

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