Atonement by Tatiana Pahlen

Atonement
By Tatiana Pahlen

The day looked bright, impelled me to walk —
a tender pulse of September.
Clear air stayed dry; I saw a quaint road
when my inner voice whispered:
"Don't you dare!"
"Why?" I asked and stepped out on the road,
suddenly seeing strange creatures
with wings, short legs; their bald heads seemed odd,
dressed in black robes like preachers.
The eldest said: "Time to repent,
your soul needs an atonement!"
A thorny wreath appeared on my head
and a wooden cross on my shoulders.
I climbed the hill with a heavy load,
carrying it to the top like a treasure.
Upon reaching the end of the road,
the voice spoke again, "you're in danger!"
I was crucified on the callous cross
Sore hands and feet were bleeding.
Relentless creatures kept caning my torso,
purifying through beating.
"Enough!" I heard the eldest say
and pulled rusty nails from my body;
He gave me a host and a chalice of wine
that looked like blood, scarlet.
I savored the host, washing it down with wine,
Braving an amazing atonement;
Held inside tears, trying not to cry,
Engraving forever this moment,
As well as the day, which was bright.