Who Was I?

Who was I?

Once, and sometimes still, I was the Betrayer. Waiting for the coming of the Son of Humanity; forgetting that He was here all along.

Who was I?

Astonished, like the Soldier at the peak of the hill where He hung. Scared, mistaken, sorrowful, and wondering. Surely He was, wasn’t He?

Who was I?

Panting and nervous like Mary as I ran toward the grave. Faint as I expressed my concern to the gardener.

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