HIS ONE LOOK

I wished I could be blind;

I wished I'm gone mad;

I wished I'm dead then;

I wished I're barren!

Ahead there in my eyes,

He falls down now and then;

being spit upon, being beaten,

soaked in blood, legs unsteady;

a heavy cross on His shoulder,

to be crucified in a short-while,

in return for all the good things

He did to the mankind!

He is but just a being

for anyone who thought so!

He is but my beloved,

my own flesh, my own blood!

Never could I imagine

the tortures He'd undergo

in His last journey all alone;

Me, following Him, praying for Him,

and then, His one look at me,

telling everything through the eyes,

helpless? orphaned? dejected?

Oh! I wished I got collapsed!

Oh, no, look at me not again,

I'd be there with You,

wiping off Your tears in my eyes,

and so shall we live longer,

forgiving those crucified You!