He hangs, yellow
Like a tree
Arms stretched like limbs
Fingers spread like branches
The maidens like leaves
Fall at his feet and sway in the breeze
Their wails like wind.

Their folded hands pressed to their laps
Fingers tangled like vines
The wait, eyes closed and time passes
Like weeds more come by and
Like weeds they are plucked from the ground.
They turn brown in the sun, wrinkled
Left raw by time but still
They wait, eyes closed.

His yellow feet hand
And sway in the wind.
The stench of blood washed off by their restless hands
He hands- yellow.
They wait, eyes closed
Children like dandelions fall away
The maidens stay
Brown and tan
Eyes raw
Fingers crossed
Prayers on their tongue and
He hands, swaying in the wind
Yellow.