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The Trial
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Poetry "The Trial"
To this trial he was bound by fate,
To obscurely in the darkness wait,
Admitting he had done much wrong,
With the worst intentions all along,
Until presently, he'd fooled himself,
Pretending his thoughts were from someone else,
The freedom he had one day known,
He suddenly found was not his own,
No evidence on his site was presented,
Not even a hope of innocence hinted,
His pleas were silenced by the sound,
Of his cardboard walls which were tumbling down,
His testimony stood amidst,
A maze: with lies at every twist,
On their own, his fingers drummed,
Fearful of what was yet to come,
The prosecution chose to rest,
And this, he knew, was his final test,
"How do you plead?" the justice asked,
"Guilty, but forgive me of my past."
"Forgiveness is not mine to give out,"
The judge proclaimed, without a doubt,
"Forgiveness comes only from above,
For Jesus posesses unconditional love."
The tears began to fill his eyes,
He feared he would be his demise,
As the jury slowly filed in,
And one-by-one announced his sin,
He quietly counted six in all,
And the jurors still solidly, straight and tall,
"Guilty," the first said, without compassion,
"Guilty," repeated the second, after a fashion,
"Guilty," was the answer of the third,
And "Guilty," was all from the fourth that was heard,
The fifth, in agreement with the first through fourth,
Said "Guilty" without a tinge of remorse,
But the six, who stood the tallest of them,
Stared at the man convicted of sin,
As the man in trial said his prayers,
The sixth juror said with love and care,
"My son, you've asked and so it is given,
Forgiveness is your's, for just that reason,
God loves you and what's even more,
A box full of blessings awaits you in store,
So do not cry, for you are protected,
The blessings wait to be collected,
So walk with Me on His eternal shore,
And all your transgressions will be no more."
