Ever tried to look inside that cup, deep
And crimson bought with blood. It is a cup
Best drunk slowly, for every drop has a
Meaning. Its taste is sweet to those that drink,
But to him there was a bitter twist; brought
Life where death prevailed. What manner of love
He had, for to drink such a cup. It was
A love forged in heaven. A love for a
People chosen. You will see when you look
Inside that cup; full of burden, woe and
Sorrow. It’s a cup best lifted by the
One who drinks in faith, the weight would sink the
Man that held it high; humble the man that
Knows the truth. Wrath did fill that holy cup;
Righteousness emptied that cup. My grip could
Not hold it, except he lifts it with me;
My lips could not taste, lest he did make me.
“ ... Ever tried to live that cup ... ?”
|