By way of a little welcome to one of our newest members, Savannah.
Her avatar reads 'Cheer up! The worst is yet to come!"
That kind of hit the button of my imagination.............
The endless quest to find a position less painful than any other position.
Naked, yet covered in blood, dust, and sweat.
Stretched on a cross, with only a howling mob and an executioner for company.
Four vicious spikes, wrists and heels impaled.
A foul cornu, the only choice to share the weight with the nails.
The Mediterranean sun, approaching its zenith in a cloudless sky, beating down without mercy on her blistering body.
Breath coming in short, gasping sobs.
Thirst! Such thirst! Such a desire for water as she’d never experienced! Yet no prospect, no hope of a drink.
Her parched lips and mouth cannot even utter the word ‘water!’
Savannah. Beyond screaming. Beyond crying out.
She could scarcely remember a life before this cross.
Yet she remembered the betrayal that had brought her here.
The love, become hate.
The friendship, become the cruellest revenge.
The everlasting, endless crucifixion.
‘Please, just let me die!’ Her only thought – until –
A brazier? Red hot irons?
Her executioner’s malevolent grin?
What’s he saying?
“Savannah, cheer up , the worst is yet to come!”
Her avatar reads 'Cheer up! The worst is yet to come!"
That kind of hit the button of my imagination.............
The endless quest to find a position less painful than any other position.
Naked, yet covered in blood, dust, and sweat.
Stretched on a cross, with only a howling mob and an executioner for company.
Four vicious spikes, wrists and heels impaled.
A foul cornu, the only choice to share the weight with the nails.
The Mediterranean sun, approaching its zenith in a cloudless sky, beating down without mercy on her blistering body.
Breath coming in short, gasping sobs.
Thirst! Such thirst! Such a desire for water as she’d never experienced! Yet no prospect, no hope of a drink.
Her parched lips and mouth cannot even utter the word ‘water!’
Savannah. Beyond screaming. Beyond crying out.
She could scarcely remember a life before this cross.
Yet she remembered the betrayal that had brought her here.
The love, become hate.
The friendship, become the cruellest revenge.
The everlasting, endless crucifixion.
‘Please, just let me die!’ Her only thought – until –
A brazier? Red hot irons?
Her executioner’s malevolent grin?
What’s he saying?
“Savannah, cheer up , the worst is yet to come!”
What a poem! I have to admit it has got me quite turned on...
