balladeer of moons
174,118 poems read
We are the Scourgers
We are the scourgers We are the tormentors We are the deliverers of unutterable pain to the Deliverer
We have gone up to a hip new Jerusalem to accomplish all of this
The bringers of unspeakable anguish, we are the builders of crosses
Now fashionable ornaments in our homes
We have mocked and spat We have fastened the Savior to the pillar with furious rage
Pulling and jerking him along
Ourselves respectable pillars so we say
It is our pride that is the sharp iron hooks on each lash
We make the Angels mourn We are the thorns of thirst We are the counters of bones
The ingrates and champions of the five wounds of a sacred body
We are the slayers of the source of life and the slayers of promises
Takers of glory who have dishonored his story
It is impossible to confess our barbarity to the holiest and gentlest
The very one who makes it so that tomorrow may not rise without us
We have gone up to a hip new Jerusalem to accomplish all of this
The bringers of unspeakable anguish, we are the builders of crosses
Now fashionable ornaments in our homes
We have mocked and spat We have fastened the Savior to the pillar with furious rage
Pulling and jerking him along
Ourselves respectable pillars so we say
It is our pride that is the sharp iron hooks on each lash
We make the Angels mourn We are the thorns of thirst We are the counters of bones
The ingrates and champions of the five wounds of a sacred body
We are the slayers of the source of life and the slayers of promises
Takers of glory who have dishonored his story
It is impossible to confess our barbarity to the holiest and gentlest
The very one who makes it so that tomorrow may not rise without us