"But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men,
And despised of the people."
He was tirelessly renounced for the meanness of His birth;
Openly ridiculed for His hapless externality in public life,
Whilst privately reviled for unmasking the seducing gall,
Being pumped like excess bilge from the Temple mount.
Authorities despised Him for the balm He bestowed;
While tending to the lost with all the easy, gusty plainness
Of an old country shepherd husbanding his cherished flock;
Thus, they rejected Him as one unfit for the foundation stone.
"And He beheld them, and said, 'What is this then that is
Written, the stone which the builders rejected, the same
is become the head of the corner?'"
As the Paschal Lamb, one ordained unto sacrifice,
He accepted and drank the bitter cup of pain and sorrow:
For all His days are sorrows, and His travail grief;
Yea, His heart taketh not to rest in the night.
In disgust and revulsion did all eyes dance afar.
And did the heads avert their gaze and all turn away;
In deprecation, unable to see, in this one broken man;
The Fountain of Life pledged unto a bereft and broken world.
"He came unto His own, and His own received Him not."
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