Heart pounding through my chest.
Lungs burning with every breath.
Sides aching with emptiness.
I was walking Via Dolorosa about to face my own death
Looking blindly through a haze of tears naked in a field of my own fears.
With only a sword to aid in my escape I stood there gazing at the wall of thorn and briers before me.
A tear of utter frustration fell from my eye as I lifted my blade.
It ached me to do, but I didn't let it stop me.
I had to cut myself free of these sharp entanglements that had entrapped me.
I had to break free of these ties.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry.
But I was paralyzed.
Soon the ice that gripped me thawed.
And the thoughts that had been frozen inside me began to escape my cold heart...
I tried to choke them down, but inside I seethed.
My bleeding heart grieved..
I grasped the sword, pulling it from its bloody sheath...
Withdrawing, never hesitating, I took it up as if to protect my life....
Words both beautiful and lethal seeping like gas into the air that we breathed...
Colorless, odorless, but deadly nonetheless.
The sound of sorrow laced each utterance...
My glass heart shattered, but it didn't silence me..
I took my swing...
Letting go, finally, releasing everything...
Slicing through those delicate stems..
I cut deep into the beauty I cultivated with my own hands..
Sending rose petals drifting through the air..
Naked and alone walking the Via Dolorosa.
A crown of thorns resting on my hair...