The blood drips linger afraid to leave the bastion of grace
that sustained them
fibres stretched and pulled to the brink of profanity
sweat refused clinging until vapors raised to the sky ahead
a piercing shriek of a quartz tip entered somehow sliently
parting flesh from flesh meat from bone and bitter liquid poured forth
searing a river of flesh devouring agony
a slight reprieve offered nothing but
the biting cold of sullied mead poured mercilessly upon the lips of truth
to add irrevent pain upon excruciating reverence
the clouds gathered the ground swelled up and shook
the cracks of the whip deafened by the thunderous
proclamation
thus it was done
and hope sat in stunned silence
and the endless wait began
as the blood drips lingered afraid to touch the sand
