Into the cold dark room he walked,

Eerie. Quiet. The silence stalked.

Musty dank smells, ground, and wet rock,

Covered with grief, and still in shock.

Eyes, filled with tears, so bleary-eyed.

‘Twas up all night, his dear friend died.

To pay respects, sat down in grief,

His joy now gone, death was the thief.

Dawn’s filtered light, a few rays gleam.

Stunned! Confounded! “Is this a dream?”

Across the room, one look! He froze!

No corpse was there! “Folded grave clothes?!”

“Where did He go? How can it be?”

Was he so slow, this mystery?

“Dead, and entombed! But now alive!

Just like He said! Oh, blessed Sonrise!”

In that moment, the skeptic died!

“His message true! Christ crucified!

On the third day, new life to me!

Darkness no more, I now can see!”