Stopped a front a marble alter
guilt of crosses to bear,
unrepentant sins left to falter,
a damage beyond repair.
Awakening a slumbered light
a soulless heart to fill,
burning a fuse that refuses to ignite
revulsion of the catholic swill.
Devils of a demented scroll,
souls rise to an angels call,
masquerading with unfashionable droll
death ultimately succumbs us all.
Divided souls of subtle pragmatics
an unyielding faith of fruitlessness fanatics.
Copyright © Gerald Webb