Judas And Jesus

I carve my defiant, raging pulse
In basalt rock on the Mount of Skulls,
My Christ, the poet I adored,
I sold you, Lord.

I dreamt every dream that pierced your heart,
I lived as your soul, your counterpart,
I crowned you, I of all the men,
I loved you, then.

Now I have sold you, almighty king,
For Life is my love, my everything,
For I have mighty visions too,
As poets do.

Your sacred lips do not fan my fire,
Not for me your hallowed empire,
A girl wants money, silks to wear,
She wants me there.

Am I so mean? Life is demeaning,
Has the Word lost its wondrous meaning?
Why am I lured and mortified
By paid delight?

I toss my carved rock to the abyss,
The earth will tremble for centuries
And future doomed, dejected eyes
Will empathize.