Kneeling on the very end, first position just by the isle
closer than I had ever been Looked up at the man of sorrows a crown of thorns pierced his brow.
His eyes are half shut in pain and downcast.
                                   A crimson trickle starts going south
                                   His lips are taut against a cry.
And I wonder Why.                                                   A ragged spike or nail stand in bold relief
                                                                                   Mid palm both hands. another crimson testament
                                                                                   Begins to speak.

Sunken with ribs protruding
Nails driven through doubled feet.Not where the ankles meet.. My Lord ?
Why hath thou forsaken me.

The statue of sorrows nailed to a wooden T.
Is pipers fee.. Paid in full for me.

What sin then must I atone for.
To avoid the wooden cross or the eternal fire ?

Six years living. I need forgiving ?
For what ? Even then.

I could not be a true believer.
so fire and brimstone for me.
Cast down in the pit.

Perhaps.