Judas enters the room,

This time not kissing the one to be betrayed,

Rather ignoring them,

Although they are at the head of the table.

 

Then, carefully, he controls the gathering,

Sniping remarks are hidden, clothed meticulously in royal robes,

Seemingly offering praise,

Where lack of it is the message.

 

A well-honed ego presents itself,

Without identity,

The mask concealed in years of practice,

Demeaning others, not just for winning, but just for sport.

 

Or so he thinks.

 

For Judas wants, more than anything,

Control of destiny,

Leaving victims, unknowing victims,

Lying on the ground, unaware of their fatal wounds.

 

As he builds up the kingdom of self,

And a little more separation from God.