acrostic
Oh, I shall always remember two
sacred moments when your precious
head was crowned:
once when you left my womb,
wounded by day’s bright light but
with love surrounded; then today when
grief and cruelty seemed to win their way
and a crown of thorns pierced you with
pain. How can I bear to see my son so
weighed with the sin of others, sinking
down into death’s domain?