I thought I saw a tear.
I thought I saw a tear fall to the ground, when they had you on your knees, when they beat you with the lashes. You gritted your teeth but I saw the tears leak from scrunched-shut eyes.
What could be the matter? Are you squeamish? Are you not used to seeing such things? Or are you truly bothered by such things, that you look away. I’d had my suspicions. I’ve seen too many people suffer, even righteous people, grievously afflicted at the hands of men. I believed you had a stronger stomach for these things. But maybe all along you just looked away, disgusted at the violence among the children of man.
Well now we are disgusted at you. And before the whole earth you bear our mockery.
Honestly, I had hoped for a whimper, or a scream. Harder men than you have screamed at the pain. Better men, too. We could not enjoy the sound of your screams, but the snapping sound of blunt objects against skin, the crack of cartilage beneath a boot. These are a chorus of delight.
A song of justice. A tune to accompany retribution.
Fitting, as you never spoke out against the suffering of others, why would you cry out now?
And you stood by as I wept long into colder nights than this.
And I watch you weep and my heart is filled with the satisfaction of justice.
But your strength didn’t keep you going for long. You couldn’t even bear the weight of a cross like a man, and like always another was press ganged into aiding you. A friend, or the closest thing you have to them, forced to share in the disgrace which is rightly yours. You despicable man. Pathetic.
Oh it was a sight! I fear you were blinded by the blood in your eyes, but the rest of us could see clearly: all your grand schemes were nought and all your noblest ideas turn to bile in our throats as we see the wreck of your fragile form. We saw what you were made of. And it all evaporated before our eyes.
What worthy thing had you to say, in this moment of final judgement? Nothing! Before the gaping maw of the harsh reality which everyone else inhabits… Before the dark pit which life under your ever-watchful gaze has opened up within me… Before the grinning mouth of death, you stagger and stumble just like everybody else.
And you prove once and for all that we are alone in the world. And truly, there is none who cares.
So we stood and watched our best and brightest young men stretch out your seizing arms and drive iron spikes through them. And we celebrated those brave souls who would finally put an end to you. And I despise to even look at you, hoisted up.
What grand speeches you had to deliver! And wonderful food! And when I called upon you, when I came to you, I was as dust to you.
But soon you will be dust, and I will be free.
Your stiffening, stinking corpse, another cadaver added to be heap. Did you loose count? The Romans are very efficient. I’m sure they keep a record of each heart they stop. It’s all written in a grand book somewhere.
Did you loose count of us? Are we an enigma in your grand equations? And with the liberty with which you have struck off that enigma, so you were struck off the face of the earth.
Did you see it coming? I don’t mean your death. I mean the rock I threw. Did you see it?
It rolled on the ground smeared with your blood. I have it now, the blood has dried, like the blood in your veins will become a powder. And this rock is mine to tell me that I got a piece of you. I got my revenge.
We beat you, and we killed you. We won and we made you endure our curse. No longer we will endure yours.
And no longer will you throw those proverbial rocks at me.
Because tonight, God is dead. And I killed him.