I Am Barabbas

As I sit in silence in my chair
Observe the cross upon the wall
I feel the violence within me flair
And realise I did it all

Each time I lied
I forged a nail
And watched it’s iron his hands arrest
Each time I cursed
I plucked a thorn
And sank it through his noble crest
Each lustful thought
Assailed his back and tore his humble skin apart
Each time I denied I knew the man
A spear I drove into his heart

For I am Barabbas
I stand, a man condemned
With hateful thoughts
I’ve murdered a thousand, thousand times
And so awaits a Roman Cross
As punishment for my crimes

I am Judas,
Stole silver from the master’s purse
Without intent to reimburse
Betrayed Him with a coward’s kiss
What man would ever sink to this?!

I am Peter,
Denied I knew Him
Once, twice, nay thrice!
As cockerel crowed
I blindly ran after He looked into my eyes

I am Isaac
Bound and helpless
Fuel prepared, fire burning
Panicking, struggling
Twisting, turning
As Father lifts dagger high aloft
I shut my eyes await the soft
Assuring silence that awaits
But in the pause a ram, he bleats!

Entangled by his mighty horns
The ram ensnared by wicked thorns
The thorns that crown his woolly head
Condemn his life for mine instead

So like Barabbas once I waited
Upon Death Row, yet liberated
The lamb was crowned with thorns again
And in my place he took my pain

Because I lusted, coveted, hated
Because His truth I still debated
He wore the names that brought me grief
Murderer, Adulterer, Liar, Thief

He kissed the guilty heart of mine
The cross His sacrificial sign
He wore my coat, carried my shame
That I might live new life again

P J Deakin 2014©

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