by M. M. Kolf
One sits beside Him
And He knows He sits alone.
This one will kiss Him
Then be on his way.
A true friend longs to be there
Should something happen.
On a night,
Where no joy lingers.
In a windy desert that
Howls its danger,
Past the praying
Though most are sleeping.
Yet one friend is there
When the sword pierces so deeply,
And is there at His feet
When death happens.