Dying Friend

On a hill, I stood,
Looking down on a dying friend.
His back scared, his body beaten,
His face sadden, his soul almost defeated.
His coffin on his back,
Guards behind him,
Death in front,
He falls to his knees,
Woman cry out.
He rises,
People cry,
He continue towards me.
He falls again
His mother runs to him,
He rises again,
Just to fall once more.
He is whipped,
He weeps,
Blood runs into his eyes.
He reaches out to me,
His eyes dark,
His face soft,
"You are forgiven,"

On the hill, I stood,
As his body is placed on his coffin,
The most awful way to die.
He struggles,
To use every breath.
His body is limp,
His head down,
His breath labored.
"You are forgiven,"

On that hill, I stood,
And watched my best friend die,
I knew why,
For me.
And his last words,
Remind me he is real,
"You are forgiven,"