To so many it is surreal and dream-like; say it out loud,
they nailed him to a cross; an overwhelming reality too
cruel to believe

Reminded of nothing but what passed their lips into
your ears, the inquisitors, blessed by a past regarded
as their own holy ground asked, “How many prophets
have you met?”

It was enough to know who Satan should truly fear;
those who would never cry, who would have no reaction
to anything except the atrocity of someone who knew
them well

They say walk a mile in another man’s shoes but why
must we walk so far; isn’t his breath alone enough to
know of the scars in his hands and feet?

It seems that life gives others too many chances; they
hurt so many others and expect to be forgiven; but I
have not witnessed their punishment; it is the pattern
sewn by my bitterness

Is it God’s plan to reveal how and when they will be
driven into the desert of lament and sorrow; or even
if he already has, with burning sands beneath their
unrepenting feet, is it any of my concern?

The clock will strike on his time; the test is not only
in bearing my own pain but also in my discomfort
with God’s random will; random to mankind, but
not to God; he chose the time for the storm to wash
away those who preach what they do not know

The one who stirs hate in my heart suffers more than
I will ever know; his conscience burns deep into the
heart I once believed failed him; and when he comes
to me to witness my refusals will he ask then if God
gave me the power to part the sea?

I was given a hammer and some nails; was it to build
a home or to **** a man? I was given a pile of stones;
was it to build a home or to judge another man?

What did God ask of me; tell me what he said for
the dream was such a nightmare that I awoke in
horror at the sight of such unworthiness

To lower your gaze and be the truth; the truth that
only humility knows, not to be hurt once again but
to show how forgiveness is greater than anything
you have been promised?

And as you walk in fear towards an image beyond a
cross you cannot believe is real, will the worthiness of
the forgiver be enough for you to know that the shoes
you wear are not strong enough to hold another man’s
suffering in its sole?