What have I done?
How can I stand here inured and insulated
from the horror of my own actions?
Deyning what I know
Knowing that it happened because of me.
I see it all over and over
I hear the tearing of flesh
I smell the blood and the dirt
The drops on my face
Is it rain?
Is it something even I cannot bear to feel?
Broken and shattered.
I stand here and watch you destroyed
By my deeds
And I don’t even weep.
I can't weep
To weep would mean it's real
To weep would mean I must face it
Face my own guilt.
Even to breathe is brutal.
Your body, crushed by its own weight,
Covered in blood and tattered flesh.
And I did this.
How can you look down on me
And love me
And forgive me
When I am washed in your blood
Standing here at your feet
Looking up at you with eyes that cannot understand
I reel from the horror of what I have done
And crumble at the price I have made you pay.
I’m horrified knowing it is done
Done for me, because of me,
No…
Done for me, because of you.
Because you love me,
You treasure me above all else.
And you stepped forward, not gladly,
But knowingly and willingly,
because you knew.
You knew that I could never pay the price,
Meet the obligations that I had incurred.
You could not bear to live forever without me
And now I,
I cannot bear to live with the price you have paid
And yet, I have no choice.
You are gone. You stood, you bore the pain,
You died and you sleep in a tomb of sorrow
On a bed made of promises and betrayals
Sealed in by fear and greed and anger
And all the horrible things that I have done.
And I stand weeping outside because you died.
For me.
And I know that I am not worthy of that much love.
And I am alone.
It's Good Friday and I mourn the death of my Messiah.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment