FRIDAY

¹² If an enemy were insulting me,
I could endure it;
if a foe were rising against me,
I could hide.
¹³ But it is you, a man like myself,
my companion, my close friend,
¹⁴ with whom I once enjoyed sweet fellowship
at the house of God,
as we walked about
among the worshipers.

.

I tried anger for a while

But in the end

I am just diminished

Empty like a dirty city street

On Sunday morning

.

Because those things that we planted together

Those places where good things grew

They now lie barren

.

And you my friend, became my judge

Sitting high on a bench before your hanging jury

And the verdict was never in doubt

I am convicted by every word I speak

It is as plain as the pain

In my face

.

Blessed are those who dwell together in unity

It is like dew in the desert

Like anointing oil on stormy waters

Like yesterday

Now gone