Not in the sky did I seek crucifixion's shadow -
You lay in silence on the steel table.
Naked despair - a posthumous curse,
Where sorrows cool in crimson clots.
Your broken joints and shattered fingers
Will not fold into the gesture that grants life.
From now on you and I suffer as equals,
Powerless against blind existence.
Rusty shackles that have bitten into bone
Squeeze the throat on the road to the heavens.
Under the scalpel the remnants of anger vanish,
Since you, like all the rest, did not rise from the table.
Your aching teeth are clenched in agony,
And the wounded flesh shudders for the last time.
There is no rescue from the ruin we share,
When even the Lord is suffocating.
I do not weep for myself, for I have no fear,
And believe in no miracle to descend from the cross.
I gaze upon your petrified face -
Where air runs short and the lips have fallen silent.
In the torture chamber we are made equal, my God,
Our pain has replaced the words of prayer.
No salvation can set us free:
We split the suffocation and the blood.