Creative Writing

The story of Judas Iscariot

by Jacq Mayoral Olascuaga

Most people play a role in this story

I just happened to land as the villain

Or I was in some past life long lived ago

But that life is gone and I am born anew

Even so, I remember what I must do

Of who I will become

I know who the other eleven are, where they live

They know who I am, but not where I live

I left them after all, I’m sick of this story

Of their looks of distrust and pity

It’s nice to know that they still remember my role in our tragic story

I am the reason he died after all, 

The other eleven will never forgive me for that

But I am also the reason people still believe after centuries of pointless books and stories

 They never seem to remember that part

But they always remember my final act

It’s not like I can’t forget it either

I know what will happen, of the bullet that awaits my temple

I already have the gun in my possession

But I’m not allowed to pull the trigger,

I don’t want to pull the trigger

I’m afraid to pull the trigger

But I will, soon enough

I left the eleven, forever to be waiting for their so called savior

Truth be told, I don’t know where he is either

Or if he’ll ever be coming back

I want him to come back

But he shouldn’t come back for me, 

I don’t want him to come back for me

He knows this song and dance as well as I do

I can’t bring myself play my part again

I don’t want to play my part again

Even though he always will

When I left the eleven,

I don’t think they were surprised 

They know I’ll end up coming around, despite all my kicking and screaming

Still, they know well enough not to follow me

And I know better than to reach out to them

This arrangement is quite enjoyable, all things considered

I even become friends with those who do not know about my role

Who don’t know about what I represent

I even go as so far as to fall in bed with some of them

God looks down at me for it, but He never had a soft spot for me anyways

After a while, I learned not to care about what He thinks

I’ll still have fire and brimstone waiting for me, even if I didn’t sleep around

I saw him

I knew this would happen eventually

But couldn’t he wait?

Just a little longer?

By now he knows what will happen when we meet

Of the pain and heartbreak that awaits the both of us.

Still I yearn for his touch

For his warm smile and soft hands

I missed him after all these years, I still missed him despite everything

He missed me too

But for now, my lips do not touch his own

They’re not supposed to, not yet at least

Still that doesn’t stop him from putting his own on my skin

Whispering soft nothings as he lets me know just how much he missed me

How much he needs me

Does God see this?

Looking down from His throne of angel wings,

Does He witness the intimacy between the messiah and the betrayer?

By now, He must realize that we’re sick of being his lifeless marionettes

But He doesn’t care about that, does He?

We still go through with the plan He created

Despite knowing who and what I am, I stopped believing in a Holy God eons ago

If He was truly was truly righteous, I wouldn’t have to follow this plan anymore

He wouldn’t have to either

You can’t deceive your beloved so many times and expect something new

It’s insanity to believe overwise

Though at this point he knows what’s coming

Still, I can’t cut off my strings

I’m the devil, plain and true

But if I’m the devil, what is he?

The literal lord and savior of course

He’s much more than that though, 

Even so, he’s just a mortal man

I am too.

And for once I want to live a normal life

Still I have a role to play, the act must finish

He’s supposed to die in front of thousands, a martyr beloved by most,

I’m supposed to die alone, a confessor hated by all

I do what I have to

I kiss him.

And again our story is repeated

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