Shall I crucify your king?
The taunting challenge and cowardly reply hover in the air.
We have no king but Caesar.
Upon His bleeding shoulder, my men shove yet more suffering.
Leaving the gate, He falls under the weight.
Near a woman, whose arms instinctively reach to catch him.
Doesn't matter that his mother is here.
We don't want him to die on the way there.
I see a strong man and order he lends a hand.
"He won't make it. Here, you, help him take it."
Then I turn to see another woman break free
wipes the face from Galilee.
Push her away with the butt of your spear
No, I don't care, we need to get moving.
With order restored, we keep going
Hopefully, no new disturbance appears.
Despite the help, He falls again
To wails of concern from new passers-by
The prisoner speaks to them.
Weep not for me, but for yourselves and your children
Again, we push Him along, making better progress
Wondering at His lack of bitterness
Another fall, the blood-filled footprints telling the tale
This time, He struggles to His feet without our help
What is this man?
Striving for the top
Where Death awaits?