stained glass between your teeth
shards of halo down your throat,
like gravel in your palms
the edges open your tongue,
let the devotion turn your
blood to wine,
does it taste holy?
candles spilt over revered words,
from smoke in tinted light
rises a consecrated haze,
with a chest full of
worshiped ash,
you have never felt so hollow.
before eternity and omneity you kneel
as a seraphic sin,
yet you remain sacrosanct.
those with self proclaimed
divinity
have no reason to change.