Forty Lashes, But for What?
Attached to this whipping post
without an inkling why.
Will I soon become a ghost
contemplating times gone by?
With each blow I ask again
'Why the lash is meant for me'?
What is the level of my sin
that earned this severity?
I speak to my Lord silently
seeking counsel and bravery.
I've prayed, perhaps not reliantly,
am I guilty of adjudged knavery?
The salt of my tears is burning,
I wince as each lash finds its mark
Screws of my life are now turning,
pained vision is becoming dark.
Is this judgment my final hoorah?
Wiggle room just does not exist.
Thank God that I've lasted this far,
I can only hope I will be missed.
Submitted for the Word Painting challenge
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