Poetic-Verses
ONE HOUR BEFORE CRUCIFIXION
The costliest joys do fall apart.
Laughter today will hold the fame
Among the chief of Pharisees.
Who chose this joy that floods the floor,
To cause again my sinking voice,
And smite the Lamb, spilling His blood?
The winds do chase the cosmic sun
And tell me something's in the mall,
And raise again a striking thought.
To fast fraught men with red stern canes,
To lands and banks without a pang;
I'll call again the harshest ploy!
To sit right here, swivel my head;
Bemuse to hotness now the choice,
Of such a friend; a spotless One.
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ONE HOUR BEFORE CRUCIFIXION
ONE HOUR BEFORE CRUCIFIXION
