Mary



 Mary

The quiet of the early morning. 


It is finished. 


He is gone.


My heart forever fragmented.


I trusted.  I believed.  I loved. 


Yet now it is the pain I feel so acutely. Deeply. Forever etched in each aching crevice. 


Yet it wasn't enough that they mocked and ridiculed, 


Beat and tortured,


And crucified.  


They took his body.  And I know not where he is lain.


My emptiness within rivals the stone sepulcher.  Each breath an effort to force the air into my lungs and back out again.  Each step a monumental effort to press forward through the dense grief.  


Lost. Angry. Confused. Broken.  I don't know who I am without Him. 


And then... a voice calls, and I turn.


And in that instant I know. And the light comes and the fog lifts and I feel as if I might burst with joy.  


For He lives. 




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