Knowing

The lashes from whips of braided leather thongs
With sharp shards and metal *****
That would rip your flesh
Tear out the tendons
Shredding your skin
Down to your spine
And all over you
Not just once
But over and over and over again
Till your whole body
Is wracked with agony

The terrible pain
Of thorns made out to be a crown
Rammed down your head
Violently

The excruciating pain
As you hang on the cross
With limbs out of joint
As you ****** your feet up
To gasp for air
The nails tearing out your already torn feet
Locking up against the tarsal bones
Your shredded skin on your back
Grating against the rough wooden cross

The terrible thirst of your body drained of water
And bitter sop given in derision instead
Until you die slowly

Breathless

Knowing all these
And wanting the cup to pass from you

Still you willed not what you will
But willed the Father's will!

And so must I