La Pieta

Agony washes over my face as his mangled body lays limply in my arms.

Tears that were once streaming down his face

are dried now:

Left over debris from a horrific shipwreck.

As the nails tore open his soft leather skin,

his face became more calm; peaceful.
The deed has been done, he is God's child no more.
He signed the Lord's book and became an icon.

Blood lathers my hands:

Blood of a son, a hero.

A hero who's life was sacrificed

For Many.

For Me.

For You.