God’s Friday

Darkness rolls in.
A man weeps in a garden,
Pleading for release but
There is no escape.

Darkness rolls in.
Liberty, now captured,
Is carried away,
Betrayed by a kiss.

Darkness rolls in.
Witnesses lie on oath.
The Guardians of Justice
Condemn the Innocent.

Darkness rolls in.
The first beating is dealt.
Mockery and Humiliation
Pluck at his beard.

Darkness rolls in.
The Roman finds no fault
But condemns him still; soldiers
Flense him with whips.

Darkness rolls in.
The troops have their sport:
He is known as a king, so they
Crown him with thorns.

Darkness rolls in.
He is lead out to die
Like a common criminal,
Carrying his end.

Darkness rolls in.
Nails are driven home,
The hammering drowned by
An agony of cries.

Darkness rolls in.
The sun hides its face.
The man breathes his last.
His broken mother weeps.

Darkness rolls in.
Splattering in the dust,
The final drops of blood
Carry all our deaths.

Darkness rolls in.
Remains, wrapped in linen,
Lifeless, still, grown cold, are
Sealed in a tomb.

Darkness rolls in
And laughs in its triumph,
Then gasps and trembles, for
The Light is coming…

Copyright © 2008 Desmond Hilary