O sacred head

O sacred head surrounded
by crown of piercing thorns
O royal head so wounded
The object of our scorn
Deaths shadows rise before you
The glow of life decays
Yet angel choirs adore you
And tremble as they gaze

Your beauty, health and vigour
Are crushed, Your strength is gone
And in your tortured figure
I see death coming on,
In agony and dying
You bled to make us free
We long for transformation
Christ turn your face to me

You saw our human sorrows
Abuse and pain and war,
And all our deadliest horrors
The hate lodged at our core.
I bow to You our mender,
For healing our disgrace.
For loving us like no other
To save the human race.