Scrap #8


There was a Father who lived by a tree on a hill and had a cane made of oak that he kept staring on when it was dawn, and held it when the sun comes. One day, a bird flew down from the sky of the dawn, perched on the tip of his cane. Father looked at it deeply, emotionless. Suddenly, he said to himself “Is it time?” By then, the cloud of the Dawn opened its curtain. But there was no sign of the Sun. Instead, thunders started to crumble. “Oh, my Dear…,” he said calmly, “Please don’t cry over this love. For I always waiting for you to shine, am here holding you.” Saying that, Father looked up to the sky, where He saw the Gate of Heaven opened. Rain poured down to his face, hiding his tears. Father opened his hands up and closed his eyes, felt the water dripping slowly on his hands, he smiled, “This is Heaven.” Then, he continued, “It has finished.”

And when he opened his eyes, the vision disappeared. He was being crucified on his oak cane. It was almost dusk instead of dawn. The Dove sat on his shoulder which was wet by his blood from his wounded head by a spiked crown of roses. He looked up to the sky and said, “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit!” And he drew his last breath.

The Heaven shouted “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti!”




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