What Am I

I am tender and moist, Yet, I came from dry ground. Though in sight there was death There was life in my sound! There is no beauty in me That one would lust I was plucked out in my prime As those of unjust! Despised and rejected, I’ve tasted sorrow and grief. Some did embraced me While others clung to disbelief! I was taken from a prison, As a lamb to the slaughter! I uttered not a word, I was given vinegar, not water! Anger came after me What followed was peace Uprooted in suffering, So all could increase! Spit on like trash, whipped in the center of town! Thirty-nine lashes, I wore thorns as a crown! People were longing, for me to show up. Yet, when I arrived hate did erupt! They couldn't see me, For who I really was. They didn't understand, that love was my cause! So I walked to my death, In the midst of an on looking crowd! As so many cheered on, While very few wept aloud! Nailed to a tree, And mocked by some soldiers! I gave up the ghost, On the mount made of boulders! As my blood poured out, And my body grew weary! I gave you my life, Yet, I’ve been called a theory! One day all will know, That I Am, that I AM, And I came as man I'm the Passover Lamb! I did this for you, So you could be set free! I had not one sin, So I took yours upon me! What does that make me? Yes, I do have a title. What am I? To know this is crucial, indeed it is VITAL! Stacey Brown/ Written 3-11-14 Contest by: Poet Destroyer A Contest: What am I