He didn't know the crossroad
When he passed it, couldn't understand
How some will glorify a madman,
Drink his dreams, to forget that living
Is a singular puzzle

For Pilate was a man of earthly changes,
Amidst a tribe that sought for heaven
His holiness existed solely in a world
Of line and light

And what power does the fragrance of a lily
Have against a dream of gods?

© J.L.Stanley