Alex Jade Poet ABC

Cathedral Notre-Dame De Paris

Hail Mary full of Grace, 
In castles, painted stone.
The chairs too small for children now,
The Lord is (somehow) with thee.
Though the faces scorn and mock me.
The angels died with heaven.
Blessed are thou among women 
Who look on silently,
Staring into me,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb 
Biting, burning like the candles.
Prayers that never left their heads
 Jesus.
Gone, gone with the blood soaked cloth
But still lives on in death.
Holy Mary Mother of God,
Birthed was He
Of human woman blood
pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.
Where death takes all to our head
And is Fatal as fighting sleep.
In boxes men un-become their sins
And fight the life they’ve given thee.
Return your flowers to dead souls!
They care not for your pity,
In coffins layered in stone 
Mummified corpses only.
Hail the true blood
Hail the power
Hail the bombs that brought the concrete pillars of God 
To their knees.
To their death, the dust does settle 
And by god do they scream,
Amen.

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