There he was,
Sitting before
What others considered
A glorious feast

Silently waiting,
For what came next,
Determined to remain steady

Despite his knowledge
Of the end
That would come to be

A noble path
To be taken
By his own choice

His decision,
Haunting him
Under the firey torchlight

But still,
It was an honor
He would willingly take

A route
That would leave him
Free of regret

For only this way
Could he pave way For his people

For the exodus
Toward the freedom
They sought

For the future
Of them all

For the sake
Of their children

A worthy cause
Despite the costs

One man’s life
In exchange for dozens
In exchange for thousands
To come

A price
That he remains
Willing to pay

Even as he stares
At the blade
Hanging overhead

Even if it meant
That this would be
His last day.

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This poem was inspired by a writing prompt from the “Storyteller’s Vault” Publication

Exodus
Feast | Sacrifice