I see tears.
I know they’re fears fighting their way out of your eyes. You’re dazed by consciousness and caprices, choices and consequences, fate and expectations and desire for deliverance.
I hear prayers in your cries, see the regret in your pain, hope hidden somewhere in the wrinkles on your head. Whatever path you take is pilgrimage when life becomes sacrilege.
There are flowers in your hands and blood underneath, there is courage in your heart and heresy concealed. Take me to temple, let me face your god; I will ask the questions, your faith shall be at odds.
I see the end.