He watches on helplessly as she walks down the path littered with shards of glass. Her face grimaces in pain, as she shuffles the cross on her back. Both hands gripping it up, she stumbles slightly as tears roll down her cheek.
Her cross to bear, a pain he cannot share.
From behind the metal bars, he pleads and gestures for her to let him help. To sweep away the shards, or carry the cross with her, or to hold her hand, but to no avail. Her eyes are tired and distant, her mind a bombard of past memories, each digging a hole deeper than the previous.
He falls to his knees, and bellows to the heavens. For help. For rain. For divine intervention. Alas, he can only watch. His heart burns with helplessness, as his eyes are overcome by grief. Every tear into her skin pierces him deep within.
A hurt no man can soothe, a wound no mortal can cover, a hole no human can keep.
