Pierced

Friday.

Unfairly tried.

You took the blame, though you had done nothing wrong.

The verdict was blasphemy even though you told the truth.

Murderer set free.  The innocent condemned.

The crown of thorns pierced into your skull.

They mocked.

They spit.

They whipped you.

Shards of glass and nails ripping your flesh 40 times over.

They made you carry your own cross and then they nailed you to it.

Breathing is a chore.

Darkness in the middle of the day.

Death.

Torn curtain.

Freedom from your pain

You did nothing wrong

It was my death that was deserved

You took my place

My sins so vile increase every day

I am forever guilty

You are forever innocent

innocence transferred

What a gift!

Saturday.

You beat the devil on his home turf.

Sunday.

You live and are no longer dead!  Ressurrected!  Victory no longer hidden.

How can I stay silent?

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