Pilate

A storm

Blooms

Over my hated

Jerusalem

The dust mixed

With the stench

Of rosegardens

Sickened me

That day they brought him

Who preached that every man is kind

The fool he cured me

And I - repaid him with death

A painful death by crucifixion at Golgotha

The Moon that came

From underneath the stormclouds

Robbed me of sleep and so

I had my way

With Judas who lays dead now

And the temple priests whose filthy silver was returned

Stained with traitor blood

My mistress brought no comfort

Though her skin gleamed in the silver light

I fucked her till the end of night

I bathed and washed my hands again

O gods

You scorn me

Take me away

This dust, this city

Make me

A weak man

I long for Gaul's green fields

The fools, you hear, they revere me

I am their saint, yet I condemned their Christ

Some idiot wrote that I did see his light

And bowed to their barren god

My gods, you laugh at me

You mock me as a coward

Before the filthy crowd and their sweating bearded priests

I looked away as a good man was slaughtered

And if the moon would only

Deliver death as it brings no sleep

I would delight to walk and speak

To the kind prophet I condemned

...forever

Eternally as the moon shines

I am awake and roused

No wine no mistress satisfies

My shame is burning me

You are a coward Pilate

And you should die

And so I took my wretched life

...and threw it to the wind

No tomb would then accept my corpse

The rivers bulged and foamed as they rejected me

All but a lone dark cave

Conceded to become my grave

They say I'm seen every full moon, my ghost

Washes his hands in the cold stream below.