is all

we huddle around three tortured trees 
once life-givers 
now enslaved as executioners

the one whose word brought me back to life
slowly suffocates as strength saps
and my heart’s hopes hurtle towards hades

all that was to be
has become disfigured
marred by criss-crossed thorns 

the story woven across centuries
and bound together in him
unraveled at the sounds of hammer on nail

it’s not supposed to be this way
is all
i can muster

i peer 
upward 
in his direction

wisened cracks emerge 
from the corners of his eyes
as he meets my forlorn gaze

his encircled irises speak 
a gentleness swooping down
lifting my spirit from its spiraling despair

it is chosen
is all
he needs to say

Written by Scott Moore
Illustrated by Landon Wideman

Inspired July 2025