Just for the silver they sold their soul
When loyalty asked that they be bold
For a bag of silver, not even gold,
The witnessed false things that they'd been told;
My world was cracked, and ripped apart,
A sudden sickness seized my heart;
Oh Father, where is your constancy?
I am bound to this cursed tree;
I am tied, a sacrifice,
To be set ablaze, a fealty price,
They will note who'll toss their torch
To light the sticks, my flesh to scorch.
And high above, from on this tree
I will look down and I will see
Who was loyal, and who betrayed,
I'll watch the soldiers as they play
For my poor rags, my soiled togs,
I the crowned Son of God;
Hear me Father, I beg and plead,
Unbound my limbs and set me free
Show these men your Cosmic might,
Release me within their guarded sight
Make them ashamed, their eyes amazes,
Save me from this burning blaze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem