Confession

Then he, the flesh, Peeling Till blood poured, streaming Through the heart of mesh, Knelt one more time, To shake The nailing of his mind. He felt the bite of the snake Again and again. The bright Venom decomposing his faith In what he came to do. He knew flesh alone was not enough To lift the wretched cup And like the old Greek Smooth the slithering choice. Exile was easier than being vertical On a narrow bed of wood between the jeers And the pointed spears Piercing through the mind. One of them spoke And light fell like like a star that day He was the Son of God