Faith

I am haunted by my actions and I can not bear the look on the man's face as I drove the spear into his stomach. The blood pours down from his body and on to my hands. These hands are not meant to murder innocent men.

I can not tell you now why I had to do drive the blade into his torso. If you asked me then, I was enraged, I was furious of what he represented. He was the focus of all of my crying, my sorrows. He spoke lies and brought shame to me and those I care for most.

I look back at it now and I can not understand the ferocity of my rage. Hades overcame me in that moment and it was I alone that took the act on bringing the man down to his final breath. I could see him, his heaving, this dying man, his pain. The look of his face was shame and discontent for the living.

If I didn't know better, I would say the look on his face was envy. I know better, however, I know his look was something more meaningful, it was a look of acceptance. A look of a man prepared and readied to die.

I have seen many battles and I have taken the lives of many men, but no man has ever shown the expression he gave me with his last dying breath. He gave me the look of acceptance and I looked back after I drove the blade into him and I felt ashamed.

For once in my life, I could not understand what I should do, who I should acknowledge and for what purpose I am here to be.

If he was as he said he was then I shall burn for eternity and that I have accepted. Though, I argue that I could have done more for him, I could not. I was surrounded by others whom threw stones and vegetables at him. I was among those whom hated him and my peers, my comrades cursed at him and chuckled as he remained strung there in nothing but a mere sheep's cloth.

The humility was unbearable and yet, even when I knew better, I drove the final nail into his grave. He was a man who was worthless to many in my community, but he made countless followers across my land. No one cared, but these savages believed he was bringing the world to an end. Who am I to argue? I am a mere soldier working for Caesar. He is the one to blame.

Yet, I drove the spear into him. I alone did it and I do not know how to forgive myself for that. I am confused and I do not know what to say anymore.

Lord Pilate appears to be saddened by his directive, but I know he truly doesn't care. He swims in his gold and his women, those whores that he proclaims as servant girls. All of this was a tribute for him to remain lord of the lands in Judea and he won't give the throne up without a fight. His lies and deceit, we all know, but his power derives from the pagans that control the land.

Who am I but a mere servant of Caesar and I don't have the right to speak against his ruling. I shall do as I must, but I question what will become of me in the afterlife.

I question my gods for I do not understand them. This man, His god, he speaks to millions without trying. The things that his people say he has done are more than what our gods have done for us for hundreds of years. I can not help but question how much of it is true. How did he have such knowledge to do what he has done and for what purpose did he do it for.

I drove the spear into him and for what reason, I do not know. According to the pagan prophets, I was serving the will of their evil god. I had no control over my actions and I can only pray that is what happened.

I have nightmares at night and I do not know when they shall end. Perhaps in death I will know the answer and here I am now. I stand here before the balcony of the palace where Pontius Pilate spoke his final proclamation for the man and it is here I surrender my torment to my gods.

I hold this rope and I look to the sky. I string the rope around my throat and I pray I am doing what I must to save myself. I do not know the way of the man's teachings nor do I believe in the pagans, but something drives me to this and I can not help be follow its lead.

Help me. I pray to the gods of the man from Nazareth and I pray it was it was your choosing that I do as I should to end the pain of the man on the cross. I am but a soldier and sword to protect what is righteous under Roman law. I pray I lived a good life and that I am in your graces. I reject my gods, for they have shown me no promises nor messiahs, nor miracles to feast upon. Pray that I am right and you accept me.