Hallowed Be Thy Name

Underneath the blue-black twilight of an impending, grim, nightmarish sky, I hear the ping of deathly bells ringing, signaling that my end is nigh. Buzzards circle above, swooping down, playing with their prey, pecking ever so gingerly at mourning flesh. I swat them away as dread fills every pore of my being. Soon, the sun will rise over the bloodthirsty horizon, its first streaks of light illuminating the sands. I know my fate will be sealed. Sweat beads and pools, coating my back. Trembling now, I try to grasp my sanity. The smell of the air has changed— stale sorrow replaces the sweet scent of desert lily. Dusk is close at hand. The death knell grows louder, drowning out even the most minuscule of sounds. The executioner sharpens his glistening blade. Arising, I am led to my ghastly doom. Within seconds, crimson will stain the sands of time, and I’ll become nothing more than mere food for the forgotten.