‘Twas I who nailed you to the tree,
Mired in muck, unable to see.
‘Twas I who flayed your sinless back
With my shattered soul, sin-black.
‘Twas I who shaped your crown of thorns,
I, so lost, alone, forlorn.
‘Twas I who hurled abuse at you,
My own self-loathing, gladly spewed.
‘Twas I who lanced your heart divine,
In doing so, I’d broken mine.
And, through it all, you never ceased
To love and so my shame increased.
But when, at last, I too was crushed,
So gently to my aid you rushed.
How could I have been such a fool?
Ne’er again let my pride rule!
11 April 2016