Lights Out Kiskadee

But this is how it must be

Take my cross and share this journey with me.
My foes fasten stripes to my back
And my friends have fled in terror.
The flesh of my body is punctured
And my muscles tick and slap loosely off my bones.
My throat has become a dry place
And my tongue a dessert scorched and thirsty for rain.
Blood is all that streams when I cry,
But this is how it must be.

Don't pity me, worst days are upon you
Now ahead I see my death bed.
No pressed sheets to cloak my body
But a tree for all to stare.
Naked is the truth stretched on the cross buttoned by great nails.
Mine is a sight like the copper serpent.
My shame, your salvation
My death, your life
But this is how it must be.

The righteous path is dyed in my blood And it ends at these bloodied roots.
Exalted between sin and repentance.
Those below melt in the view,
As they chant the hushed alleluias.
A view of white-washed hope and bitter agony.
A glory with no salt, but the final pulse of a new covenant.

And this is how it was.