As I am led out into the temple, the noise of the crowd is overwhelming. It sounds like there are thousands of them there, mocking and jeering as I approach.
Though I am unable to see, as my eyes were gouged out by my enemy’s jealous, fearful hands, my ears work perfectly. Their drunken shouts assault my senses, and I can easily imagine their scornful faces.
To them I am a joke, an object of ridicule.
As they praise their god for giving them victory over me, I rest my hands against the temple pillars, and I wonder:
How did it come to this?