Splinters of the Cross

    Repent you sinners! Hear those words ring in your ear. Repent! Repent! Shall I sink to the fetid ground of the immaculate, bury my face in filth and beg for clemency from the undefiled? Let me drive the stake into my chest, let me perform the sacred rites; to tear out my heart and lay it upon the alter. Let me reveal my darkest secrets, to open Pandora's Box and reveal the sick and twisted web of corruption that resides within.

    Let guilt and disgrace be my closest friends. Let them sit beside me on the cold pews, whispering sweet little nothings in my ear.

    Let me dream of fire and sulfur. I am just a lowly sinner. Let worthlessness be my garb and shame my headdress. 

Ah but that is not enough, the void demands more. “Repent, not with thy heart, nor with thy mind, but with thy gold and silver.”

    How simple a notion: exoneration through my pocketbook.