The Procession

Draped in webs of shadows, her face covered with a mask of sorrow, some say they heard her laments but none saw her tears. So they come in somber customs to carry what remained. She roams the streets without a destination, for it no longer matters when and where, her cold feet tread upon the stone. With eyes so bright now dull, with smile so radiant that has faded. They come and take away the lovely maiden.

The horns echo across the city; the drums beat in unison. Weaving a crown of thorns, the procession marches on towards the dawn. No one knows her name, though some say it was Carmela. Now the wind blows like yesteryear and caresses her pale cheeks. It is an ancient tale we had forgotten, but it's heard again beneath the heavens, as they come and take away the lovely maiden.

I was inspired by the instrumental opening of this song called El Juidici. While heavy on the religious themes, this music transcends matters of faith.