The Stations of The Cross - Sixth Station
Jesus scourged and crowned with thorns.Mark 15: 17 -19
Swish – thud! The first blow
His lungs gasp.
Swish – thud! With the second
His flesh splits.
Swish – thud! By the third,
His blood spurts.
Swish – thud! By the fourth,
Ruptured muscle.
Swish – thud! By the fifth,
His Flesh hangs in strips.
On and on, and on it goes,
Each blow, evenly lain,
He has never known such pain.
Right lads, twenty is enough, that should do.
Cut him down and sit him on the stool.
He’s shivering, put the purple robe on him.
It’s good cloth, the blood shouldn’t show through.
Here’s a crown of thorns for his head.
So, he’s got his crown, his robe, and his throne,
We’ve forgot his sceptre – take my cane.
Behold! His Majesty, the King of the Jews!
Bring him garlands, and bring him wine, so
What are your commands for your reign?
Shall you deign to declare war on Caesar,
Or receive the Queen of Sheba?
Quit fooling lads, the orders have arrived,
He’s up with the rest, to be crucified.
Images from Wikimedia Commons: Jörn Droemann.
© D G Moody 2023
Poetry by D G Moody
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Written on 2023-04-09 at 06:49
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