Poem: The Occasion
The heaviness of the occasion weighted me down.
The betrayal by so close.
Painful!
And for what: 30 pieces of silver.
This cross I bear alone.
Undoubtedly chosen, I must do that which I was sent.
Not swayed by emotions.
The duties entrusted were indeed enormous.
Dripping sweat turned to blood.
Gaping wound in need of dressing.
Mocked, jeered and made a public spectacle.
Focused on Calvary’s Cross.
Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.
Woman behold your son; in aguish and agony.
My destiny continues.
For all humanity, though weary and ridiculed.
Pierced side.
While I thirst.
Yet no mercy.
It is finished.
©
Comments
Post a Comment