I can see his solid face, made more vicious today by his resolution to acquire justice for his grandson.
They said he had been poisoned.
The whole city was there when he died on his wedding, clutching to his throat and pointing to his mother, reduced to less than a mere parasite from royalty in a matter of seconds.
His mother’s face, oh that I remember, had a look of betrayal, anger, despair and hurt all in a concoction only her evil face could master.
They said his hand as he died pointed to me.
I can feel the taste of defeat rise up my gut into my mouth but I fight it, knowing I must not give up.
Not yet at least.
I match up to the witness box, ignoring the rough handling by the guards.
I can feel the pinch on my hands from the shacks I have had all night.
For a minute, I ponder pleading guilty.
It would save us a lot of time.
And who knows maybe, my punishment would be less harsh.
I do away with that thought, knowing that whatever I said, my fate was sealed.
I would be found guilty.
This was not my first time on trial; I had been on trial all my life for being born poor, ugly and smart.
What changed were the judge, jury and plaintiff.
Like the other times I do not deserve this.
Who is to decide though?
All I know is I did not kill the king.
But I am guilty.
I am guilty of crimes that they could not possibly mention on this one day.
I started to commit them from the first moment I was born.
You can say I was born to it.
I am a thief, a liar, a fornicator, the list is endless.
So you would be wise to wonder if this is the truth.
I look at the judge, and plead MERCY.
# When we speak of man’s depravity, we mean his natural condition apart from any grace – John Piper.