2017.03.20 00:21
Chang Oh KANG
At the nightfall
Gethsemane Hill, looked tranquil of sweet slumbering
That spewed the tremor through veil of pitchy wall
Spirit is willing, flesh is weak yielding
Pride, false of followers to the end, surge
Rudely scuttled down on the verge
I love you Lord
I love you, till the end although others turn their backs
I love you, you know me sealed
The rooster slashes each vow of love, one by one by three crows
I don’t know him, I don’t know what you’re talking about
I don’t know him, three manifestos swearing, cursing shout
On the day
Pontius Pilate washes his hands,
Declaring the accused innocent convey
His blood be on us and on our children, the multitude cries
Slaughtering flame of the clamour rockets up the sky
The troubled road to Golgotha, truly long and awry
The standing cross on the hill forlorn
INRI inscribes wholly miserable and shameful
The final cruel curtain of the claimed, Saviour worn
The way, truth and life seemed lost disdainful
Why have you forsaken me? It is finished
He beseeched then, departed
At the morn
The dawn, exhilaratingly bright, breaking the dusk
Beam of life transforming from the shadow of death torn
The path to Emmaus so stirring and brisk
The gloomy, sad faces of the women walking fret
To the empty tomb yet
Startlingly, glee and jubilee that priceless,
They saw the living Lord standing next to the stone rolled away
The very first witnesses
Ready to proclaim the news, hope of eternity relay
Their feet hurried for spreading out the Lord’s resurrection
At this triumphant and the most glorious morn