Litters the floor

Stirring up dust.


Beyond four stone walls and the ceiling,

The sun baths the sky a pale golden.

Light hits the coins,

Glinting with shameful glee.

He cannot look away.

Crucify me, Father.

Punish me for my sins.

Show me the error of my ways;

Make me repent.

He stares into the sun,

Lamenting and rejoicing,

Wondering where he went wrong.


Fills his sight,

All he can see and all he knows.

I am Cain to His Abel, Father.

I am a betrayer and a liar.

I am the king of sinners, now.

Crucify me, Father.

Punish me and make me repent.


Is cold in his grip,

Clenched tight in a traitor's fist.

With a curse he throws it all,

At the grinning jesters who think they've won.


Glints in his mind's eye as he strides away.

Crucify me, Father.

It is all I deserve.

Punish me now for all I have done.


Streaks across the sky.

The rope is coarse against his skin,

Tight and constricting around his throat.

The clouds above are calm and knowing;

He wonders where he went wrong,

And then—

With a twist, he wonders no more.

Crucify me, Father.

Crucify me for my sins.

I languish, silver clenched in my fist.

Crucify me, Father.

Do you not hear me repent?