My God, my God, why have I forsaken You? —fleeing from the cross, nothing but my odious self within my sweaty hands, thirsting after bitter pleasure, running—blind—into the city, where my undoing surely will be finished?
Why would I continue to refuse Your love— the lesser agony of surrender— for such a shattered state? My God, my God, why have I forsaken You? Lord, forgive me, for I knew not what I did.