There was an odd hatred flowing,
He couldn’t bury guilt so portentous
Or a fear so cloying,
It was tearing him apart,
Each passing second
Was a nail in his heart,
His fear could fill oceans,
No matter how he grasped
For steady emotions,
His body at times rocked,
If religion could be spontaneously violent,
Then God could be spontaneously shocked,
This left him at the end of his rope,
He was praying for a trickle of hope,
Fear gave him no choice,
As he fought the effort to maintain
Stability in his own voice,
Of course he was frightened,
His stomach automatically tightened,
What could the world be?
That uncertainty in itself was unsettling to see,
Humanity seemed dazed, puzzled, unsure,
Nothing seemed pure,
He heard his mother crying,
She suffered a tremendous loss,
Then he suddenly realized,
He was her son nailed to the cross.
© 2013 Frank Atanacio
More by this Author
while the casket stood in the center, dominate of course, exerting a certain centripetal force.
The Vampire stood at viewpoint gazing at the stars, they were utterly still-cold...
Kimber then started scanning the length of the train station platform and the parking lot looking for any trace of a witness. It was very early in the morning, and the streets were empty and the .....