He wearily lifted his eyes and shot a piercing stare at me as the liquid mix of bloody and sweaty drops roll in quick successions down his pierced face.
I staggered backwards in the cold embrace of fear and then stood still in an overwhelming state of shock, looking at the horrible state of a mortal like me.
He was beaten and battered, He looked horrible and ugly, spikes of thorny crown were fastly nailed to his head.
Maps of torn flesh and dried blood fester his body while the fresh blood oozing out of his body tiredly gave way to water.
My fears soon metamorphosed to grieve as I saw his bloody eyes inaudibly but clearly pronouncing an ironic blend of sorrow and love.
Though his hands were fastly tied to the huge wooden cross, I still felt them reaching out for me with an unquenchable and undying love.

I saw his lips quivered, he was trying to send a message to me, but his vocal cord was still void of sound waves, and even though his teeth nosily clattered against each other, his tongue had cleaved to his palate.

He shot at me a melancholic gaze that out rightly pierced my soul and set my shivering bones on the fire of guilt. My eyes fell on the ground in shame.
He was rejected by those he cared for and crucified by those he loves.
A tremendous rush of guilt invaded my heart and tears welled up in my eyes. I fell down and wept, he was in such an intense pain.
It was all my fault, it was my sin he carried.

Who would wash the dirt on his face and dry his teary eyes?
I could easily count the vein network on his body running across his body as he hung half naked on the cross.
But who could have thought he was carrying my pains and dying my death.
I should have been the one hung on  the tree
He was innocent and deserving of none of these predicaments.
Eventually, his trembling lips faintly mumbled some words. I looked up to him eagerly, and when I read his lips, he was praying for me; for my forgiveness
I couldn’t believe it.
As if compelled by my doubts, He muscled up his remaining dozes of strength and triumphantly cried with a loud voice “It is finished!!!”
Then silence.
As his eyes closes up in death, I felt them saying “I did this for you”.
He breath his last, what a cloud of tranquility fell upon his innocent blood stained face.

Though pints of blood kept dropping, his heartbeat slowed down to a final stop.
I wish I could tie a white bandage on that fresh cut and pour a bottle of spirit to stop the flow.

Three days after, good news of his ressurrection came to me. I raised my wet eyes, my lips gave in to a faint smile then to a triumphant outburst of joy as I saw him conquered the pangs of death and the hades for eternity.
An ultimate universal sacrifice the son of God made for all time.
His only sin was love yet God did satisfy his wrath on his Son. The soul that sins must die.
An eye for an eye, a life for a life, blood for blood, Christ for my freedom.

He poured out his blood all over me declaring me free forever.
He took away the shackles on my hand, replacing them with a rose flower, an emblem of his eternal love.
Christ took off the garment of sin and put on me the white garment of glory dipped in his blood.

This is the reason for the season.

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