Simon the Zealot at the Cross

The worst that could have happened
has happened—and more.
You were to save us.
And now what is left but fishing and tax-collecting?

i look around and see no-one to help,
So my own arm will work salvation for me.
i must put this despair somewhere.
i must put this anger somewhere.
i need to put this helplessness somewhere.

If Your arm is too short to save,
Surely mine is shorter,
but i have to do something, something—

But not tonight.
Tonight, just let me die with You.

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