It’s been years waiting
For the huge brute.
To do his only job
Of demonstrating his prowess
Amid women’s ululation.
“On your knees & keep your neck straight,” he would say.
In his hand a razor- sharp sword shall turn and twist.
My heart shall dance against chest.
Though fallible like me he holds my life
Or lack thereof in his hands.
A pitch- black cloth shall descend over my head
Preventing me from seeing
But still I will see my way to Him.
I will see what they cannot see.
The man or is he a real man?
Will swing his sword once above my head
And once against my neck.
Yes, the long-awaited moment will have finally come
Turning the ground blood red.
Freedom comes in many ways.
I will strut Home and free.
Leaving them guilty
For they know they are no God
But sinners like me.