The next 3 days

His hands were pierced.

The nails cut through his flesh reaching his veins, tearing tissues and ligaments. 

They tore through, blood gushed out. 

Each piercing was a piercing at his heart.

His was was of agony and utter despair.

His feet were nailed, each thud he felt, deep in his soul.

Felt, also by His father.

Each nail caused his heart to rise and fall.

As he was whipped, each spike ripped through his skin, peeling, removing and rendering it a deep wound. 

His head had a crown, not of gold or glittering silver, but of thorns.

Each thorn dug deep into his scull. 

Each pull, cut through deeper, blood poured out covering his face, making him unsightly.   

And he was pulled,

Kicked, 

Spat on,

Laughed at,

Tugged at,

On the road to death, he was deserted. 

And his death felt lonely.... 

He died,as silence fell across the land, 

but the story continues... 

Man breaths 

the earth wait 

silence greets the skies.

Even His enemies waited as

Earth's flame went out.

For the expectation of what might be, 

For his followers, the next 3 days felt like 3 years. 

The sea was calm.

His disciples hid and morn his death

Silent grips the land as 

Gloom embraces large as 

Man waited through the next 3 days.