How hard the iron
of those nails were,
like the hearts of those
would would not listen
to your kind words,
offer of the Father's love.
grey and dark
like sin,
pointed
like the cruelty
of an unrepentant soul.
And yet,
you stretched out your bloodstained arm,
openned your hand,
as if eager for them,
as if accepting a kiss of love
as they penetrated your flesh
in an agony of pain,
an echo of the misery
of a lost soul.
KAC