Antiquated brotherly rivalries.
Men fighting religious wars.
Crucifixions.
Yes,
Crucifixion.
In my lifetime, we are truly witnessing the re-emergence of crucifixion.
Somehow I thought that fell out of fashion with the Roman Empire.
Not so.
The witch in me shudders with memories.
The humanitarian in me shakes her head with something darker than disbelief.
The woman in me sees sons.
The sister in me sees brothers.
The daughter in me sees fathers.
The friend in me sees comrades.
The lover in me sees hands once used for tender touch and sweet caresses, slung lifeless over wooden crosses. Necks once used for gentle kissing, hanging down limp and absent.
Souls in scores, brutally torn from this plane, climbing their own, personal stairways to heaven.
