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Prayers sung in tongues forgotten, Clerestories bare forgotten saints. Weathered cathedral knells laments, Blackened — a deathly taint. But when the night desolate, When no man wanders beyond the forest trees, A woman of stars begins to blaze; The bells start to ring. The cathedral now an orchestra; The cadavers now awake. The star woman descends from the void, The once dead climb from dying brake. Her being graces the ground; The ghosts follow her presence. A waltz with her children begins — The cathedral echoes psalms with reverence.
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Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 9:42 AM UTC
Cathedral In The Brake
Prayers sung in tongues forgotten, Clerestories bare forgotten saints. Weathered cathedral knells laments, Blackened — a deathly taint. But when the night desolate, When no man wanders beyond the forest trees, A woman of stars begins to blaze; The bells start to ring. The cathedral now an orchestra; The cadavers now awake. The star woman descends from the void, The once dead climb from dying brake. Her being graces the ground; The ghosts follow her presence. A waltz with her children begins — The cathedral echoes psalms with reverence.
nathanroy
Written by
18/M/South Africa
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 9:42 AM UTC
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