shoved down the narrow street in stark humiliation
while every prod -of hand or whip- stings like fire and knives
on the back that no longer looks human, torn to ribbons and
forced to bear up the cross of shame, too heavy for words
since the weight is not of the wood alone- it's the world's too
stretched out on the planks, the ropes cutting in raw and deep
the strokes ring out, the screams ring out, the soldiers ring around
the foot of the crosses to divide the robes and watch as
people scream out and the body is racked with pain of two kinds
the sky begins to darken, the hours pass, the pain is surreal
and then it's time: the words are barely hear from the mouth
too disfigured to recognize as the cry of agony pierces the air
the cry of the forsaken, the abandoned, the cursed
dies away as the sky falls black and the final words fall
as the spirit is yielded up and the work is finished
the last drops of crimson fall to the earth while the body droops
and the red stains seem to whisper from the parched dirt below
soaking in the love that grew where the blood fell
while the earth shakes and trembles and the dead are revived
and the last barrier is ripped away, torn from top to bottom
the mangled body is taken down, wrapped in linen strips
soaked with tears and spices, the very scent of hopelessness
carried away and laid in the rocky crevice of the earth
and sealed with a stone of finality's weight
but something changes in the morn, as the light overcomes and
with the dawn arrives the joy of the morning while the
mourning of night fades away into shock and hope
when, amid the tears, she hears the voice and looks up to see
the face of love looking back, the scars and marks erased
by hope and the miracle of the beginning of the rest of time
tears flow out of the eyes that had seen death and given up
and the eyes that crushed death and rose up victorious
but they are tears of joy, and don't sting at all while
bare feet pound on the dirt as they run to tell the miracle of life
when the scars and wounds are visible again, doubt dissolves
and faith is born to just one of many to come, but the scars
that were bore out of pure love, the only thing strong enough
to break the self inflicted bond of death and seperation
and while countless numbers will see the scars and believe
the biggest mystery is yet to be said, and that is the fact that
He did it for me
and consummatum est
