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As he weighed their souls Nothing added up He was tired Jesus Christ looked down from above But paid no attention It’s easy to make a mistake in such conditions A wretched gram, this way or that What to put on the other scale? A dead heart pumps dark blood turns thoughts and turns the inside out A heart of stone will be the weight ultimately He heard singing and an orchestra from above He swallowed a bitter curse His face did not change a bit when they dragged in the next naked one from the camp The poor thing will be burned alive for what no longer matters A young blonde boy a cherub with a body smooth as a snake innocent carries the truth or only what he knows He hadn’t been beaten properly yet back clean the brow line free of thorns only ***** and stinking like them all The stone heart outweighed the body there is no soul Raised on the scale, he begins to sob Fiends drag him down by the hands He falls limp like a thing They drag him across sand, red from chalk or blood I loved him Before long the scream fell silent Where is my sword? I was to be your sword.
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 2:20 PM UTC
Triptych