3 Trees

The day that the Lord was forgotten.

Shadows grope in the sun

blood, veins across the dust

pierced feet raise a forsaken body

the rugged hill excretes rust. 



Broken hands cloak iron spikes

a torn side screams while

breathless words stutter righteously

an angelic host gleams Heaven's glory



Shredded flesh pleads for relief

arid lips swallow sour sweat

scorching sun restrains a breeze

blood tears meet bruised brows



A bloody gaze searches Heaven

swollen lids caress his tired eyes

3 trees moan

the Heavenly Father embraces a son