Easter Poem

It's Easter let me praise his name first, For he was burried in a tomb of stone and dust, But on the third day He came to life atlast, The angel rolled the stone; it didn't burst. He was the only son of God, He rode on a colt not a pod, A spear was thrusted on His bod, And His body was beset on shame by a horde. He was crucified for our sins, That's why we must praise Him with every means, Preaching His Gospel from Cairo to Orleans, Because it is on His scars our faith leans.