Self questioning, like the ancient Pharisees or Doctors of law, his motives in life, he was not so sure.
Demanding answers for his actions he could not give,
Whilst struggling with his emotions the reasons he should live.
He had sat like Noah, watching the sea slowly engulf the remnants of life all around him,
And freely accept its fate without as much as a whim.
One after another he sent out doves of peace expecting them all to return with an olive branch.
When only black crows would appear on the horizon like returning cattle on some Texan ranch!
He had witnessed the bitter taste of what it was like to be physically crucified.
A slow lingering death, so much pain, his tears and screams he kept tethered inside.
The immense weight of the cross he had to bear,
And how others had passed by him without as much as a care!
Left him damaged beyond all repair.
They will cheer you as you ride triumphantly in,
And in an instant spit and jeer without as much as a whim
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem