The Lance of Longinus, I

Mother, would you believe
what it is that I am to do?
Of mine charge,
a Christ.
Of mine command,
a lance.
Of mine soul,
a damnation.

Mother, would you believe
what it is that I have done?
Of mine hands,
a murderer.
Of mine eyes,
a scapegoat.
Of mine soul,
an apostate.

Mother, would you believe
what they have done to me?
Of my spear,
a relic.
Of my armor,
an icon.
Of my soul,
a saint.