Accused

Accused

 

The stones hit hard and fast.

Some large. Few small.

Pain engulfs my welted soul.
Taunting and condemning are the cries I hear.
I am surrounded. No way to escape.

The Lord appears.
His strong hands lift me from the ground.

What is wrong? He asks.
I cry to Him with pointing fingers and then turn to face my accusers.
But the only accuser is me.