The soldier grunts
and swings the lash
with the cruel strength
of those who hate.
Why have you, why have you deserved this fate?
His comrades jeer
and mock and count
each cutting blow
with vicious glee.
What have I, what have I done to thee?
His blood splatters
upon the ground,
the soldier's face,
the ancient stones.
Is this how, is this how the lamb atones?
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