Canticle for the Victim Soul
VI
I am become like to a pelican of the wilderness
I am like a night raven in the house.
I have watched, and am become as a sparrow all alone on the housetop.
Waking in spite of the weariness largely untamed by my rest, I
Stirred and arose for a moment before jerked down by the chain ring
Garland abound, as the tremble of evening invited a cloud of unknown tongues
Over a blight of a fire too close to be comfort, the waning
Crescent of moon in the sky, and so shortly I wandered
Curious gazes around; in the wilderness, tents of the legions
Distant and small, and the warm campfire disturbing and dry, found
Chained to a pillar beside some other; unlikely allegiance
Prisoners keep, so it seems the adjacent detained had a worse time,
Almost eliciting pity if not for the similar card I
Wrongly possess, of a fate in the hands of Gentile and unknown wake,
Waiting procession for slight and distressed intervention, and hard I
Truly endeavored and merely arrived here, safely to death’s door,
Sharing at least a fraternal imagining here with the fellow
Hebrew alongside, thus in the absence of harsh supervision,
Feeling compelled to initiate social convention, a mellow
Stammer in croaked Aramaic, Maybe as morning arrives, so
Shall those Romans, and jolting awake in surprise, as his chain ring
Rattled, he gasped, and as suddenly could he awaken he could speak,
Saying, And thus for our fate in the morning, both for the same thing,
What we endeavored against them after Jerusalem fell that
Day, in the psalm of our sorrows for once and now twice has the city
God had bestowed to His people, His portion, burns, and the temple
Weeps for the loss, as sung in the days of captivity, pity
Never deserved for the sinners and foreigners guilty of blood, thus
Brother of Abraham, sing! and with vigor, for covenants men kept:
There by the rivers of Babylon, over the stones of the shoreline
Where we reposed, all our hearts grew troubled; behold, all the men wept,
Thus as he said and again of the words that once I had run from,
Marking the man as a rebel against Rome, those of the night I
Fled and forwent a repose by the Kidron, and this is the man from
That and his retinue legions of Rome keep animosity, might I
Add, are unlikely to hold as distinct from others imprisoned
Meeting a matching criteria, Hebrew and running exhausted
Through all the sands of Judea, and now the rebellious one is in midst of
Song, of a taunt for the Romans, and drags into this an accosted,
Innocent man, and however he came here, this is my torment;
Cease to embarrass the both of us, murmuring softly, I stated
This with intentions pure, as a way to prevent a perhaps more
Rapid demise, and he stopped short though in dismayed and deflated
Manner befitting a child and not of a man, and he spoke thus,
Surely the two of us fought in the siege, or at least in the war, he
Sighed, And unless I am sorely mistaken, the Romans are planning
Some execution for both of us, which is a fate unavoidable; sorely
Meaning a blessing and not as unwelcome, for never I dared
Foolishly, being a risk and a liberty lost, for we marched south
Knowing we must die, lest we become as a slave in his own home,
Suddenly stopping to cough in a hoarse tone; feeling my parched mouth
Also begin in an itch, rose out as a cough, and he lingered until I
Finished, My name is Baradamah, said in expectancy, waiting,
Knowing too little of whom he had asked to have gathered he knew not
Even his name, and as such, is for poor conversation; frustrating
Silence arose up until he continued, I keep to myself in a certain
Context, although I am curious what had become of thee, driven
Over the mountains to Benjamin, dragged here wasted and small, a
Victim of war and combating at worst his own demons, and given
This is a meeting in chance, owed nothing between us and nothing
Bound in our blood save Israel, what is it that had delivered
Thee to the hands of the Romans? and nary a word had escaped my
Lips, as he further expounded, Perhaps by the virtue considered,
Being a Hebrew, sufficed, as imagined, I see an escape from
Zion as treacherous, though understanding the issue, I wonder
What had occurred to return thee back to the hands of the Romans
After the legions encountered resistance, my brothers all under
God’s gaze, watchful and true, all except thine here to be gathered
Soon in the bosom of Abraham, slain in the field or expired
One at a time on a cross for the serious crime, so as water
Flows was the blood in the valley today, and I greatly admire
Men who had stayed and had given the life God gave for the sake of
Abraham, Isaac, and Israel; where, in among all the flurried
Blows and dishonored, disgraced men giving the greatest of godly
Sacrifice, where might thou be among this? sounding a worried,
Though an indignant effect, on his face a discerning expression
Searching for signs of a coward in creases or folds in my ashen
Face, this traitor (perhaps), were reacting as such; I began to
Speak of the Sadducees: mirroring Isaac, the fruit of the passion
Abraham felt for our Lord, might strike all the priests in the dark day,
One, two, three, and the rest struck that night by a lone sword;
God had refused to belay one blow, and in shame, they
Scurried in cover of night to Gehenna, evasive of Rome’s horde;
Born in a pit, I was born underground, I was born dead, and was once dead;
Thus was repeated in kind, for the words had become as transcendent
Prayer for this man born dead; thought as a courtesy, somewhat
Needed for speaking aloud of a miracle half as resplendent
Next to a real resurrection, explaining the process in certain
Terms should matter; as such is the case, to be blunt is assuming
This is in jest and is not true, though to reveal an examined
Purpose in context draws a comparison, that of exhuming
Dead and of birth, so to label myself as a man who was born dead,
Found dead, this is indeed an appropriate method of explaining
This, as was seen in the silence to follow the phrase, the beginning
Sure understanding requires: the mind is arrested, detaining
Thought and of course, speech, pondering takes on itself a discerning
Mantle and billows in study, and billowing such was the Hebrew
Mindful, bewildered, confused, and silent, how silent indeed, what
Such revelations entail can be hard to unravel and see through
Fully to logical ends, so Baradamah stayed as he stayed, still,
Quiet, and even reflective for hours, as once I had minded
One of the Sadducees over the Mount of the Olives a few days
Prior to this night, turning the sudden encounter to blinded
Brokering over the truth, to conclude with the pondering, errant
Thought and another debut for the silence ensuing, immersing
Silence in silence again, if a bit more nervy and cratered,
Prude and disposed to the words of the man born dead, so conversing
Stood as an often neglected decision or option pursued in
Kind, and as once, so again, for Baradamah hung in his quiet
Well for a time, so until the patrol had returned in the morning,
Nothing elapsed in the meantime, nothing to sing as the riot
Once he attempted to bring life back to, in shouts of a shared and
Maddened captivity both these Hebrews had come to, our trial
Young and becoming as evident guilt, so the Romans approaching
Carried no torch nor a sign of discomfort in coming, denial
Signed in the guilt of the silent, and one of the Romans, a slim, self-
Satisfied man of advanced age spoke Aramaic in clearly
Foreign derision: The flippant display, a regard of contempt for
Rome, in attacking and killing a patrol of a legion austerely
Formed by the citizen soldiers of Rome, is deserving of neither
Mercy nor clemency, such disregard has defiled the captured
Thus to the point of a peril and trial, of which I am certain
That of the two, both come to me guilty, and being enraptured
Hereof a false god, jealous and weak in protecting the mountain
Sacred to Jews, I denounce both Hebrews as sons of affliction,
Lacking in worth and so warrant a terror in punishing slaves: lo,
Both are condemned to the worst I can give to the damned, crucifixion,
Shivers of falling despair came over and locked me in trance, like
Sleep, all too stiffened as death, all the hands had descended to lay hold
Fast in the morning, before the ascension of even the sunlight
Winking in dawn-kissed color and splendor, so seemed to me day-old
Truths in a dream at the words of an angel, believed for a time and
Shattered as quickly as flesh on a cross, oh the cross, I had never
Known it and fled in a thought of it, that of the cross, of a heaved-up
Grave for the vultures and cackling crows that eat me forever,
This is the terror deserved, to be raised of the grave to be only
Slayed for a terrible fate; for the reason of this resurrection
Comes as a cosmic rebuke or a song of a coming despair for
Israel laid waste, lest the beginning of heaven’s election
Choose for itself a despised man dead in his grave for a trial
Worse than his first death, crimes he had not paid yet had deserved two
Deaths, an original horror reserved for the killer of Abel,
Thus is fulfilled in the man born dead, and unless I am served to
Abaddon twice and escape once more, it is doubtful I rise from
Dust in the wake of the day’s crucifixion, or come to discover
Some strange reason for this: revelations unlikely to come from
This condemnation in morning repose, for the men who recover
Jews in the desert for torturous reasons began to approach, and
First laid hands on Baradamah, struggling quietly versus
Those hands holding him swift, and the same hands came for me soon, too,
Loosing the cords of captivity, shoving us, muttering curses,
Dragging us over to posts in the ground, and restricted our limbs with
Rope, that heavy and firm wood weighing against my collapsing
Body, and heaving in short breath, breathed in the dust of the ground, much
Like the original dust of the grave in Gehenna, my rasping
Birth and revival in dirt, and as such, an anxiety washed by
Full force, panicking breath in remembrance of death, and detrition
Over the flesh of a back worn down in the morn of my trial,
Wooden erosion of skin rubbed raw, and for this my condition
Worsened, the knowing of coming deliverance slighted my soul such
That all the memories waver as muted and marred introspection,
Only aware of the cross-beam tied tight cross my arms,
Lifted and shoved forth, feeling the weight of the cross’s midsection
Crush and depress as a yoke the condemned wear, cutting my breathing
Short into heaving and cough-fits, suddenly hoisted, a heaving
Motion by one of the soldiers had lifted and forced me to stand up,
Marching in line with Baradamah wearily, both of us leaving
Toward a hill on a slope to the west on the opposite side their
Camp, and in merely a moment the weight of the cross had me writhen,
Heavy as carrying oxen on one’s back, worsened by these binds
Bending the weight back managed by only a hunched position,
Which was a painful position at that, and for every step, I
Winced, back aching in just the beginning a terrible journey
Up the despicable slope, and a long ways off for the moment,
Losing momentum and slowing in speed, to expend or to burn the
Energy gained in a restless repose on the active adventure
Sauntering toward a second demise, and at that, execution
Awful and ungainly, the price of the power and principle that no
Shrewd revelation turned to repentance, and robbed absolution
One opportunity chanced to restore for a better demeanor,
Such a remembered distress as the cross-beam bending my torso
Passed by the Romans who carried the pillar it soon would attach to,
Lovers who longed for fitting in one to another, and more so
This man born dead carried his beam as a trembling muse of
Sorts who would bring it together for terrible purpose, expectant
Tragedy wearied in flesh and destructive to bones, for the last strengths
Offered by rest had become in the journey immortal a segment
Saved for the wailing and flailing of saddened despair for my hopes dashed,
Raging against the destroyers on every side as a primal-
Borne insurrection of will, a result of intrinsic defiance
Lacking a proper reply, for the death is already a final
Punishment, that which nothing can further the painful, severe strike
That crucifixion inflicts, so rebellion conveys indignation
Better compared to the silent acceptance of true resignation,
Faithful and infinite; never for this man, grand reprobation
Earned in the eyes of the Lord for transgressions identified not, nor
Sins of a kind he has answered for once in his labors, the wages
Paid for his sins in his death once, this is again for transgressions
Not as explicit as needed to change, as the infant engages
Not for his culpable parents’ iniquity, neither the man raised
Stands for the sins of his life once lived; nevertheless, my affliction
Strains as the summer arouses in slumber: a harvest of pain in
Step and despoiled in aching, the fruits of a yearned crucifixion
Bearing the beam of unearned condemnation and sickening judgments
Made fast, callous, and careless, resulting in strident damnation
Offered for permanent punishment purposed in vengeance and ardent
Hatred, a suffering coming to light for a man’s consecration
Barely delivered and recent in grace, for the day has arrived that
Peril of bounty, the gift resurrection amounts to a wasted
Thing, for the burning and tired as pulses of fleshy description
Flood in its lasting refrain, a betrayal indeed to have tasted
Life once more, to have known it again as a lover returns to
Bed, and in days of precarious living be captured and slain, be
Tortured in ways of Gentile machinations, in wilderness trials
Followed compulsions to walk up the hill to a death I so vainly
Feel undeserved, and so burning desire enrapturing me, I
Felt in my bones a renewed strength, that of an ox, overwhelming,
Ardent, accompanied by thoughts of escaping in violent sedition from
Roman captivity, this strength flowing from a source so compelling
That in a moment the force had assumed, overtaken my bones, some
Mightiest spirit unnatural suddenly casting away all my loathsome
Flaws and had poured in it molding of grace, as the slope of the hilltop
Arced and subsided and soldiers had carried and placed — no, I will stop —
That is a place this man shall refuse to go toward, the fiendish
Torture awaiting the damned is for someone, another, my squeamish
Flesh had begun to dissent in a trembling fare, an annoyance
Surely for Romans behind, and a kind of unsettled clairvoyance
Fell as a drop of the rain — of the Romans, behind me the oldest
One, who had spoke Aramaic, was raising his hand in a boldest
Strike, and a chance to escape had presented itself — so I bowed back
Using the last of the vigorous force, a resoundingly loud crack
Flooded the air, and the spirit had left, so the sickened and shocked gasps
Came as response to the brutal attack, and for several moments I lingered
Down the descent of the hill, and the following things are remembered
Partly: the shouts and discerning of what had occurred as I fingered
These ropes that bound flesh to the wood, and a similar strength might
Come to Baradamah also, for he had as well undertaken
This task, startling these men, drawing a gladius fast and
Fearful, and wild a swing had arrived from the aether of shaken
Captors and struck hard this man born dead, still in a fate most
Glorious, struck both binding and limb, as a dull, unfulfilled sting
Landed and had traveled the arm to the shoulder; so catching a glimpse of
Eager Baradamah singing his psalm, the return of a killing
Blow had delivered another unskilled strike, seizing the blade in
Grains of the beam, so the soldier began in a struggle of nervous
Action attempting to take back that blade, coming to realize
That it was fruitless too late, for the rope had returned to its service
This man’s right hand, thus in a moment the other restraint loosed;
Taking a last look toward Baradamah, three of the five men
Took to abusing him greatly; he stopped in his singing, his mouth was
Swollen and blood was all over him; only the only alive man
Left by the man born dead was attempting to beat me, and lacking
Weapons, his blows were no match for the will to survive; I retreated,
Leaving Baradamah knowing the soldiers were not a forgiving
Lot, and the moments, the minutes thereafter were largely entreated
Not to my memory, only the images left of the fellow
Hebrew and later the wild expressions a terrified coward
Bore in aggressive denial of weakness, though grateful I was
That he had failed, this old friend Abaddon, since he devoured
That Aramaic-defiling soldier and that of the other
Hebrew condemned, and I trembled before I had ventured salvific
Roads to unknown and detrite lands under the heavens of spirits
Deaf to the cries of the damned, and of powers determined prolific
Saving me versus the others; a blood warm, coarse, and unbridled
Flowed in my veins for the minutes it took to fatigue, so the rolling
Hills of Judea had fell underfoot as the dust had unfurled as
Crashing of waves in my wake in a mad sprint east, a consoling
Spirit had carried me there, and upon that mountain I witnessed
What had become of the scene I had left: in the light of the morning,
Shadowy figures had lifted Baradamah over the land, the
Shape of a cross an obscured but a quite unambiguous warning,
Distant and impeding my vision of what had transpired, but only
One cross raised on the hill, and between these hills, a suspicious
Figure as black as the midnight sun stood stark on his hill, a
Silent observer; I left and descended the hill, expeditious,
Fearful, and softly, as surely the Angel of Death had again bore
Witness to second a sparing, revealing himself to be known, how
Something had changed in repeating a kind of a Day of Atonement,
That I was wilderness-driven again, but no longer alone, now.
tied outside of camp • with Baradamah the Zealot
condemned to crucifixion • killing a Roman guard
abandoning Baradamah • a dark figure in the hills