Crossed By My People

My hands can never hold the weight of my problems
So, like many, my wrists will have to do the job
They shall bleed, to hold me up
Make me hover above the ground
When I die... 
I'll still be pinned against the wood
A hole in my side
Jammed in with force by sin
The life pours from my head
Staining my eyes
What else should a helm of spines do?
Feet bound, can not kick
Three days
That's when it will all be over
For I'm just a lamb
And the wolves have torn me apart