Your punishment of scourging was ordered,
The standard execution of forty lashes.
Your wrists were tied behind the pillar,
And the execution of the flagellation began.
Lash after lash, You were whipped on the back,
Each blow of the whip slicing your tender skin.
You beared the repeated strokes in silence.
The tight rope around your wrists began to heat
As your fists tensely closed from the agony,
While Your thumbs overlaid to the third fingers.
Attempting to control the pain, Your teeth grinded;
Your eyes closing while Your eyeballs rolled upwards.
Every breath of life became deeper and deeper,
To escape from Your lungs at the touch of the whip.
Nearing the end of the dispensing of the lashing,
Your legs became feeble from the physical drain;
Your body being greatly weakened from the soreness;
And Your tenure slowly collapsed towards the pillar.
You could no longer hold back the signs of suffering:
During flagellation, You, Jesus, displayed tears!
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