Bathed In the Anguish of Golgotha

I am a dog of Caanan. Protector of Israels settlements, and scavenger of the deserts. Cowed in movement and strangled with inhuman voice, I feed upon the waste of the crowds that gather about your lingering soul Traipsing around the anguish of the Golgotha crucified, I smell their departing vapours. Yet, each step around your fading ruin ignites a crucifixion within me. Impaling me to your cross. I hang upon your sorrow like a broken scarecrow, and linger at your feet, hoping to be remembered in the land to come. But, all I see is a simple man, pained to the end of his tether. Shedding tears that fall from pain filled eyes, as desperate for earthly release, as he is for heavenly deliverance. Tears that nourish the dirt where they fall and bless the heads of those who stand close Loping between the legs of your faithful, I nip the ankles of your accusers, a rightful dispenser of their pennance. Final miracles are demanded but no longer heard, the weak of faith tumble away like brittle leaves, blown by the frailest of winds. Eliciting akward glances that feed my empathy, and soul wrenching moments drained by your despair. No longer cowed by man and his craven destructions, I sit at the foot of your cross, resolutely guarding your ascendency.