Judas

How much do you demand for innocence?
Thus Judas, towering before the priest,
Questioned, a grotesque figure, cold and tense,
With glinting eyes, unweary eyes of beast.
Annas the priest, so silent and uncouth,
Looked on, his lips misshapen, wrinkled old.
For long they battled with the sense of truth
Until the daylight waned and sounds grew bold.
Judas then triumphed, though he knew he failed.
He sold a soul, he sold a universe;
And through a sudden gleam of joy, he paled.
An unforgetable despair, a curse
Loomed somewhere in the cool and crouching dark;
Even the moonlight menaced white and stark.