Thirst, hunger, weakness, pain—
the only things left to remind me I am human.
These walls are painted in the blood of sinners,
marked with the desperate claw marks of the damned.
Today is the day of my execution.
I served this kingdom as best I could—
sleepless nights, devoted sacrifice—
yet the empress’s eyes see nothing.
My executioners approach, footsteps loud as giants.
My cage opens. I begin my final sojourn.
The chains bind my hands and feet,
their clatter a dreaded percussion,
the prelude to my swan song.
Then I see it—the sun—
baptizing me for my final moments.
Each step is a exercise in humiliation,
my life stripped from my hands.
I am no more than a lamb to the slaughter.
The village folk stare,
their faces painted with pity and melancholy.
Ahead, a noose—
my final embrace.
In their eyes, I see light, struggle, a future.
Through the rope, only a black abyss.
*What did I do to deserve this?*
Was I not devoted enough?
Not courageous?
Not faithful?
It doesn’t matter.
This is the fate the kingdom has chosen.
The noose tightens,
its rough threads biting my emaciated flesh.
It embraces me as Jesus did the sinners and despots —
and then, the floor falls away.
For a moment, I am flying.
The hands of the sky hold me up—
just for a moment.
*Oh, how I envy the birds.*
In my last breath, I wish to be reborn a sparrow.
Then—
*snap.*
The Stones Bleed Like Me 