I, the student, seized on a night of cold,
Booked and found guilty, for reasons unknown.
Immediately, my freedom was sold,
Despite my friends' pleas, I was all alone.
Later, while I was brutally tested,
At what turned out to be a cruel trial,
My rivals relentlessly contested.
Afterwards, above me was a trash pile.
All the Court's jury wished for my demise,
I had a desire to be justified,
Without a word, the truth shone in His eyes.
With my death sentence, He was crucified.
Ironically, when all was at an end,
From death, my Perfect Martyr did ascend.