Jade smoke drifting through
a heartbeat's ash descends upon the temple
and incense drowns out their murmurings

the cardinal's shadow nailed to the cross
now only a mocking bird's song can be heard
beneath the embossed covert

worshipers' nooses of jewels hang heavy and low
sermons spill downwards like thick honey
drops of golden truth clog up eager ears

black lace shifts with the breeze from the window
and the birds’ song passes around the listeners
full of clandestine truths, it’s time to convert

emeralds, rubies, diamonds, all covered in golden jade
and in another beat are surrendered
to the temptress