III. DEATH
He brought me to my feet
And lifted his shirt high
He placed my hand upon his side
I jerked back with a cry
Tears they brimmed my stricken eyes
He smiled and wiped my tear
“See my child,” he whispered,
“It’s by these stripes you’re healed.”
Without control my tears poured down
As if heaven itself had rained
In shock I watched as his robe changed
Turned red in deepest stain
He lifted his arms to his side
Red dripping to the ground
Forward I rushed
Desperate to stop the blood.
“It’s done,” he cried in great relief
I followed his gaze down
My ashen clothes had turned to white
The stains of sin no more
Anew I wept with tears of joy
Then halted suddenly
For if my sin had taken he
What happened to my lord?
Before me was a crumpled pile
His body sickeningly still
The blood had stopped its gushing flow
From the now-dry wounds he bore
I realized that the music stopped
As if this were the end
I wept, “Return to me, my Lord,”
But nothing answered back.