Voices,
shrill, desperate and frightened,
accumulate in layers
across the courtyard
and force their way in
through windows and open doors.
They bounce along corridors of marble
and echo blurringly from stone tiles
and vaulted ceilings,
to disturb the earnest enquiries
of the Roman administrator
as he presses the prisoner
for an answer he can use.
The man refuses to be constrained by his bonds
and speaks calmly of truth,
too easily it seems to his interrogator,
who demands a definition
for the well worn word..
The man accused of kingly conspiracy
remains silent, knowing that his truth
is difficult to hear.
It is a place where evil and cruelty
meet their limits;
where death is no longer feared,
and where hope,
no matter how low its wick burns,
will never be extinguished.
This disturbing truth will be reached
through a mix of painful love,
generous suffering, and much bleeding;
little wonder his clamouring protagonists
find it so unpalatable.
In the end
the Governor finds it all too difficult
and surrenders the man
to the voices.
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