He was in agony In the garden of Gethsemane Bowing His head, down on His knees The first blood He shed was in prayer The perfect sacrifice Not a blemish or a scar Ready to pay the ultimate price The first blood He shed was in prayer They beat Him and mocked Him Spit in His face In a trial that broke all their laws They whipped Him and scourged Him And crowned Him with thorns Blood unceasingly dripped to the ground The made Him carry His cross up a hill Where beggars and thieves came to die The drove nails Through His hands and feet As they hung Him on that cross The agony there was when sin entered in The Father had left Him alone He never had felt the pain of sin As His blood quickly seeped in the ground He had never hurt anyone, never said wrong Yet He died the most ungodly way Yet with all of the blond that he shed that day The first blood He shed was in prayer Let us never forget the price that He paid And the blood that was shed that day But ponder on the significance That the first blood He shed was in prayer

First Blood
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