Sometimes we forget or don’t understand the depth of anguish that can fill a man even when he does what he knows he must, what he is foreordained to do. This is my interpretation of the personal struggle that might occur.

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Sorrow stabs my soul when my chosen sleep. They shiver and sigh and slumber. My eyes brim with tears of understanding. Forgive their frailty. For their flesh is weak.

Melancholy consumes me when they turn away. They swear and disavow and deny. My voice quavers with words of compassion. Forgive their renouncement. For they are afraid.

Grief tortures me when my accusers point. They testify and perjure and curse. My spirit strives with pangs of woe. Forgive their sins. For they know naught.

Pain pierces me when my tormenters lash. They spit and shove and laugh. My blood runs red from fissures on my back. Forgive their abuse. For they are deceived.

Agony overwhelms me when they hammer the nails. Soldiers smirk and scoff and sneer. My misery flows from limbs to core. Forgive their blows. For they are blind.

Heat scorches me when the sun assails. Watchers scorn and jeer and jest. My nostrils choke with the scent of hyssop. Forgive their mockery. For they are ignorant.

Exhaustion engulfs me when I hang on the cross. A thief cries and pleads and begs. Absolution wells from the fount of my grace. Forgive his sins. For he truly repents.

Anxiety assaults me when my eyesight fades. I weep and pray and call. My destiny looms from eterne ordained. Forgive my trembling. For I am afraid.

Anguish shrouds me when I can’t see His face. My body quivers and moans and dreads. Love thunders from the depths of my despair. Forgive me, Father. For my flesh is weak.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?