The Cross

It may be ugly, rough and grim
But we know that it works
And when we visit frequently
To be cleansed of our quirks
It means that we mean business
And know that we have failed
To walk a pure and sinless road
To where our Lord was nailed.

He died an awful, sinless death
So we would all attain
The chance to live the kind of life
Our father God ordained
So don't give up the pot holed walk
The rich and rutted way
For heaven is our sure reward
If we can last the pace.