I follow on the road behind you
Struggling to keep up as you climb that hill.
The menacing cry of the crowd is all around
Eager for the blood of the one they have decided shall be the victim.
Dust hangs heavy in the air,
I struggle to breathe,
My eyes sting, as the dusty sweat trickles into my eyes,
“Lord, wait for me!” I cry.
But only an undecipherable croak passes my parched lips,
and the crowd close in behind you,
eager to drive you on towards the hill.
“Lord, don’t do it! Please don’t do it!
Not for me, not for this unforgiving, undeserving mob”
No-one hears or cares.
They want their cheap spectacle.
They have no thought of those who follow
It wasn’t supposed to end like this, was it?
Each hammer blow
echoes out across
across the valley
I want to reach up, and drag you down from that cross
to hold you in my arms again
as if you were a small child
and I could defend you.
Despite your broken-ness
your gaze seeks me out,
eyes compelling me to understand
that this is the way it should be,
eyes compelling me
to love the world that has broken and despised you.
eyes encouraging me to believe that this is only the end of the chapter
Above the mocking sound of soldiers,
and passers by,
your cries ascending
are not for their ears
but a plea to the Lord almighty
for mercy on the ones
who think that they have won today.
and as you breath your last
the darkness that settles on the land
is not just in my heart,
but spreads across the land,
marking for all time