Monday, 26 October 2009


I was mad, suspended in time to die for my crimes
And I didn’t give a damn, my guilt I considered of no account
I had taken what I needed, when I wanted it, it was my right
Nobody was going to give me anything and nobody ever proved me wrong
So I stole, and now I was left with only my bone-shaking vertical anger

I knew of this man hanging by my side
There was so much talk of him far and wide
Ha! Some sinless saviour, stripped and whipped
On the level with me now, I give him a sideways glance, a snipe
Somehow his serene stillness in the face of such searing pain

Drew the rage even more from every pore in my beaten body
I hated him as much as I hated myself, and this world
I had not asked to be born into, and this life I had no desire to live
So I hurled abuse at him, the so-called king – are you not the Christ?
Save yourself and us, if you are this great deliverer, let us all off this bloody hook

And then my co-conspirator turned to address me, did I not fear God?
Was I not deserving of this condemnation? Did I not suffer rightly?
But this man had done nothing wrong … this man … who the hell was he?
What could he know of me?
I could not, would not let go of what had filled my every waking moment and fuelled my every single act

None of this was my fault – it was those rulers with their stone-cold eyes
Their silver lined pockets and this so-called God who cared not to see what had been done to me;
Today, who can tell me where I will be? No one. My lowered head
My closing eyes, the darkness welling up inside as the mist descends
If I was a praying man, my only plea would be that this was truly to be the end

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