OFFERING OF THE PRIEST

Sacred is the offering and bloody is the axe that threatened her neck.
The priest stood above the stones on the altar and muttered words of consecration as the knife glistened as ominous as an axe in the palm of the hand.
The offering writhed desperately as she fought death and stretched her pained hands to grab life's fading own.

Around the priest's dilemma stood a divided congregation of light and dark, all in a fighting stance, waiting for the whiff of war that the strike would begin.
While they stood readying themselves for the physical clash of swords, they battled on the spiritual field of the priest's mind, whirling in their struggle around his head like buzzing bees around honey.

The Priest heard turbulence as his voice boomed "Don't kill!! KEEP!!"

Immediately after the noise of turbulence roared his speech, CALM spoke with a voice as clear as peaceful blue seas, "KILL AND LIVE!!"

The universe looked at him from the opposite place of its dwelling and he wondered at the upturn of the very earth he knelt on.
He closed his eyes and focused, turning off the noise of turbulence and drawing strength from the PEACE of CALM...
HE opened his eyes, already sheathed from the corruption of deceit while ironically overcoming the distraction of the flu of confusion.
He looked down at himself on the altar and brought down his knife with as much force as he could muster, and then watched the form that plagued him for decades dissipate into non-existence.

Spilled blood, Genuine sacrifice, Altar of grace, became the mantra he lived by: For he found life after he gave himself away. Eternal life in the arms of CALM.

He is no longer a dead man walking, he is alive after death. Alive because of Grace. Alive because of HIM.

Death is swallowed up in victory!

Rjaygrace.