In the depths of despair, when troubles abound,

I find solace in hands that once were bound.

Nailed to a cross, they bore the weight of pain,

Yet held up salvation, in love's eternal reign.

Those hands, so strong, etched with scars of grace,

Offering redemption, a divine embrace.

With each gentle touch, healing they bestow,

Filling hearts with hope, where despair once did grow.

In times of darkness, when doubts cloud my mind,

I place my faith in those hands, resolute and kind.

For they carry the wisdom of ages untold,

Guiding me through storms, with courage unfold.

When burdens weigh heavy, and tears begin to fall,

It is those hands that catch me, and softly enthrall.

They offer strength, when I feel weak and frail,

Whispering reassurance, like a gentle breeze's tale.

Oh, the power of those hands, steadfast and true,

Shaping my spirit, with love ever anew.

In their grasp, I find solace, peace, and rest,

Knowing I am held, by the One who knows best.

So, I put my faith in those mighty hands,

That bear the scars of salvation's demands.

For in their touch, I find grace unending,

And the love of the Divine, forever transcending.