Sunday, April 5, 2009

Penance

We seized him in the early morning hours
We bound his wrists at painful sharp angles behind his back, up near his neck
We marched him relentlessly to the bosses’ mansions
We whipped and cursed and beat and spat and mocked him onward
We gave him no rest and no quarter
We made a pretense of judging him when we had already judged him
We enticed the crowds to spurn him for a known murderer killer of women and children
We placed him before the fists of uncouth soldiers
We twisted his bloodied hands into the iron manacles upon the stone pillar
We flogged his wearied body with leather reeds adorned with bone, metal and shell
We waited for him to get up and beat him again until he fell
We repeated this often with much enthusiasm
We clothed him in flowing purple robes
We blindfolded him and sucker-punched him and taunted him
We matted a wreath of thorns down on his head with paddles
We stripped him naked
We tied his wrists to the heavy wooden crosspiece
We tightened it so he could not release its weight
We paraded him through the crowded, narrow, crooked streets
We all laughed and pointed and jeered as he stumbled by

He fell, tearing open his knee and breaking his nose
He rose
He fell, the heavy wooden crosspiece ripping flesh from his back and shoulders
Still, he rose
He fell, dirt dust and mud inflaming his open sores
A third time, yet he rose

We whipped him on as a common pack animal
We showed no mercy nor restraint nor compassion
We enjoyed it immensely
We led him to a hill built on skulls
We stopped him in front of the vertical wooden post
We shoved him backwards and the pain on his face brought us ecstasy
We wrapped rough cord round his wrists and the wood
We pounded nails through his palms
We lifted him upon the post and laughed at his groan as the crosspiece settled down
We bound his feet tightly together
We pierced them to the wood with a single iron spike
We drank cheap wine and rolled dice for his cloak
We watched and waited for three hours

We faltered as the skies darkened and the wind picked up
Then, we departed, one by one, some with tears and some wondering what might be had for dinner.

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