It’s iconic
Ironic
This repeated passion play
I could prostrate myself,
Allow your scourge to freely flay
Still, it would not be enough
You’d come back another day
Angry

I could struggle through the darkness
Of our shared Gethsemane
Let you revile, defile, deny
Me
It would not be enough
You still would fail to see
Resentful

I could walk to Golgotha
Accept your jabs and barbs
Wear your crown of thorns
Embrace your scorn
You’d still want more
Vengeful

I could climb the mount to Calvary
Hang there upon the crux
Naked, mocked and doomed
It would not be enough.
You’d rub salt in my wounds
Righteous

It’s useless, this processional, repeated passion play
Then, Aha!
I see the light of day
Perhaps the change to make’s not yours,
But mine.
I pray.

I’ll completely shift my focus
Look inside
My will be thine.