The Darkest Day
I
wake in the darkness
One
side of my face swollen from the beatings
It
hurts when I breathe
I
think my fingers are broken
Abba,
Abba, I’d rather the bitter cup of hemlock than this
How
much longer will they have their way?
I
heard his screams during the night
A
nightmare for every piece of silver – that bloodied money
I
just don’t get it
He
can bring people back from the dead
He
can calm a storm.
What’s
happening here? What have I done?
Ecce
Homo.
Pilate. A thug in a smart suit.
Representative
of power and might, or so he thinks.
Just
a puppet in truth. When I look at him, I
see the puppet master
The
one holding his strings
Only
he has no idea, it is so sad to see.
No,
no…he looked right into my soul
I
saw him with the cross beam, hardly recognisable
His
face beaten out of shape
But
his eyes; piercing, full of forgiveness no anger or retribution
I
don’t deserve that; how dare he, how can he forgive me.
I
can’t go on, I want to run and hide!
Father,
Forgive them for they really don’t know what they have done
Let
the barrier be torn
There
is now on Earth a seed of Heaven
No
hiding places any more
Let
your will be done here as well as in Heaven
It
is finished
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