PILATE
I dreamed I met a Galilean,
most amazing man.
He had that look you rarely find,
The haunted, hunted kind.

I asked him to say what had happened,
How it all began
I asked again - he never said a word.
As if he hadn't heard.

And next, the room was full of wild and angry men.
They seemed to hate this man.
They fell on him him, and then,
They disappeared again.

Then I saw thousands of millions
Crying for this man
And then I heard then mentioning my name,
And leaving me the blame.