Blood

Evening gathers amongst the murmurs of distant storms. Darkness is beckoned by birds flocking to their nests. But some remain defiantly.

Claws gouge into wood. The vultures hungrily survey the ground, but see only blood gathering in the dirt. The sandy earth drinks the drips from the suppurating wounds above. No carrion yet, but patience will pay off. Their hunger rivals the thirst for blood of the guards below.

The baying crowd gone, time stops and echoes eternally.

The chest of the man heaves, his arms splayed and head bowed.
Forgive them Father for they know not what they do.