Feet striking the stone,
Hauling this cross on my back.
Wounds from the chains
That once whipped not too long ago.
And I carry not just the cross,
But the weight of my world.
and not just my world, but yours.

Thorns dig into my head,
Ripping my flesh.
The clouds roll in.
Rain pounds the world one drop at a time.
My feet slip atop the mud.

The forest in the distance;
The only sign of life
In this desolate, abandoned town…
So far away.
This journey is utterly bootless.

Suffering for my sins and yours,
The knife in my side is proof.
I saw in my mind, the altar;
The pedestal once revered.
And now, as I trod to my demise,
All I can envision is my crucifixion
As just another story in your book.