The ground moved and shook
until its surface ripped open as if by a knife.
Above, the dark clouds came in haste
dragging the sun away from viewing
the blood and water streaming from a wound
into the nervous air which failed to catch it,
spreading out onto the dirt, rock and wood.
But the torture stake stood its ground
as the dead remained fastened on it,
unaware of eyes who looked at
the ribbons of flesh hanging off the body,
of voices with their quiet grief,
while some heavy curtain was torn in two
exposing a hidden golden ark.
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