Herod heard another name spreading,

and an old fear woke inside.

"John has risen from the dead."

Guilt can make the buried rise.

John had stood before the ruler

and called unlawful what was wrong.

Herod feared the holy prisoner,

heard him gladly,

kept him long.

Herodias kept the wound of truth

and waited for a better day.

A king feared the man in chains.

Birthday tables.

Nobles watching.

Officers and men of state.

Herodias' daughter danced.

Herod smiled.

Wisdom arrived too late.

"Ask whatever you desire,

even half of what I own."

She left the room to ask her mother.

The answer came back cold.

The head of John.

Now.

On a charger.

Herod was exceeding sorry.

But sorrow did not make him brave.

An oath spoken before his guests

became the excuse that fear obeyed.

The executioner went down.

The prison did not hear a plea.

John had not softened truth for power.

Power answered with the blade.

A king feared the man in chains.

A grudge waited at the feast.

Truth had troubled Herod's conscience.

Pride delivered John to death.

His disciples came.

They took the body.

They laid him in a tomb.

And later,

when Herod heard of Jesus,

he remembered John.