Giving it all up. Killing the fattened calf. Laying it all down. Raising the knife. A ritual preparation for the spilling of blood, the spilling of soul. The stripping away of life. On a white cloth altar. So you can see.

Better make sure it is worthy. The sacrifice I bring. Do I respect it enough to pierce my deepest emotion? Do I regret it enough to feel the fatal weight? Do I hate it enough to summon the power of death? Do I love it enough, to name it sacrifice?