RED EYES

I'm neither God nor
son of God
To resurrect the
Very next day.
I might be bird brained,
But not a cynic.
Surprisingly,the same you throwing
Stones at me.
And spitting your tongue.
See the game of crucification
Has changed though.
Unfortunately,now the stones are sharper
And clearer like the
Broken pieces of mirror.
Cruel and serpentine than
A knight's sword.
Harder like a turtle shell.
But,
Wonder where do i hide
bits of my wounded heart?
Perhaps the red eyes could answer.