When the low men came for you,
   why did you let them pay fifty solidi for your body?
Why did you not resist them,
   for you had other lives to live, other loves to profess?

I know you were given only vinegar,
   when all you craved was the living water.

And I, the Honest Fool, met you in that desert,
   clothed in the rags of a *****.
You had come seeking freedom, and I....
   I had come seeking oblivion.

God may have you in His hand, but I have you
   in my heart. And all is as He wills I suppose.
Even though you had made me promise to take you
   to the city where His Son was birthed.

I know only one thing for certain:
   where you began is not where you will end.

I wonder often if we have chosen poorly,
   selling our souls to those who killed Lazarus
after Christ raised him up.
   Are we worth so little?

I want something that they cannot give;
   I want to walk where He walked,
and love as He loved.
   For I was meant to wield a plow,
        not a rifle.
  
What is it that you want?

And if perchance you ever walk in Gethsemane,
   will you weep?
Will you yearn for what ought to have been?
   I will.