wood

time spans
like a hand
the lifeline longer
than a thousand years
pierced through the palm
the blood of millenia
fresh upon the sand
where ants crawled lazily
across the pale feet
and lining up for dinner
the structure raised
upheld the dimming figure
the sweat upon its brow
so very sweet
and the crown of thorns
the badge of the martyrs
the halo of lambs