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. ©

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