the wind
was fire on his skin
like salt
on open wounds.
the sun
was blinding lightning
through his skull.
blood welled up
on the stones
as he pounded fists
fervently
howled agony
at the heavens.
the gods
ignored
his screams today
like they did
every other.
this
was penance
for untold sins.
forgiveness
was the rotted fruit
of futures scorned.
through agony
comes truth,
through truth
comes understanding.