Lament

Heart pounding.
Feet pounding.
Hammers pounding nails through human flesh.
Oh God, what have I done?

Legs fumbling.
Hope crumbling.
Silver coins tumbling to the temple floor.
Oh God, what have I done?

I don't want this blood-stained money! It can't buy back the life I've taken, the life I ripped away from the only decent person I've ever met. I didn't know. I didn't know. Why didn't I understand the darkness I was plunging headlong into? Oh God!

Oh God! Where can I hide from your eyes? I expected you to be angry, to pierce my heart with arrows of fiery hate. I thought you would curse me. You knew what was coming, and yet you let me kiss you. Why? I don't understand. You looked me in the eye, and all I saw was love and grief. There was no anger there, no hatred. I should have known; you've never shown hatred before.

But how could you love me? I betrayed you to those who wanted you dead. I took money for your life. I led them to your place of sacred prayer. How can you love me? How?

And yet I know you do. I saw your eyes, brimming with tears as you let me kiss you. You love me! You--the Teacher, my Master and Lord--you stoop to love me in my wretchedness, in my deceit and malevolence. Why? Why, Lord?

Oh God, what have I done?

In my anguish, God, I cannot even hope that you will forgive.
I can't go on. With your relentless love haunting my black soul, how can I live?

Oh God, what have I done?
It is I who killed your son!