To Pilate

by DragonSkulls

The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.

"Kill the liar," was the cry of the crowd.
He was stripped of His pride and stripped of His shroud.
There He stood in shackles and chains.
He was an innocent man, yet the center of blame.

He was mocked and kicked, He was beaten and thrashed.
He was thrown to the ground, He was treated like trash.
You seen him suffer and the pain that He felt
on the ground where He lay, where you should have knelt.

Chorus:
Through His crown of thorns, His faith did not lack,
though His flesh was torn, ripped across His back.
Did your conscience lie, did you think you had won,
when you seen Him die, when you killed the son...
of our God?

Did the crack of the whip make an echoing sound,
through the heart of the city, where He was bound?
Did the people cheer for His fate to be sealed
not realize through His stripes they were healed?

Did you call off the guards when their rage turned fierce?
Did you wince at the pain when His limbs were pierced?
Where there shouts of triumph when His life was shattered?
Did you stand close enough to feel the blood that they splattered?

Chorus:
Through His crown of thorns, His faith did not lack,
though His flesh was torn, ripped across His back.
Did your conscience lie, did you think you had won,
when you seen Him die, when you killed the son...
of our God?

When the sky grew dark as His blood run red,
did you have second thoughts that He was who He said?
As He hung on the cross, He forgave you too.
He said, "Forgive them Father, they know not what they do."

And then He died, the course set on track.
And three days later, He came back.
He paid the price, He was the only one,
the human sacrifice, our Father's Son.

Chorus:
Through His crown of thorns, His faith did not lack,
though His flesh was torn, ripped across His back.
Did your conscience lie, did you think you had won?
'Cause you can't kill the savior, forever the son...
of our God!

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Show us MORE of Your Early Poetry writing prompt entry

Writing Prompt
The last contest filled up and I know some others wanted to enter, so here's another chance. Share with us one of your oldest pieces of poetry, exactly as you wrote it. I want to see all those excessive ellipses, capitals at the start of every line, the abundance of semi-colons, the pretentious repetition, the unnecessary line spaces that are.....

SO.....

IMPORTANT....

to my art!

I want you to swear on your honour you won't edit it before posting (adding an image is allowed, as we're in Fanstory Land). Other than that, no limitations. For example, I have one in my repertoire entitled 'Political Correctness' that's literally just a blank page (I was a very sarcastic teenager). For a more useful example, here's the first recorded poem I have of mine - my Nan confirmed I was 8 at the time:

The Snow

Quietly the clouds move in,
Looking like the hair of an old person.
Then very slowly,
The dandruff starts to fall.
Everything as still as the sleeping mouse,
Everything as quiet as the forest at night.
Until the morning spreads over the soggy landscape,
And children chant their cheers from their places of rest
As they look at the white floor outside.
And the still and silence is no more.

Show us what you had :-)

Recognized

Before I found this site numerous years ago, I wrote songs rather
than poetry. I actually have a CD with music accompanying these
words but I seem too dumb to figure out how to get the music from
the CD to my computer and then to YouTube so you can hear it as well
as read it. But again, that's beyond my grasp, I guess. This was written
thirty some years ago.

Thanks for reading.
DS

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Early Poetry contest entry. Please read author notes.

To Pilate

by DragonSkulls

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