I fell asleep beneath a cape
Of thick, porcelain mist-
And let my soul sink into the ground,
As darkness did persist.
I heard a demon cry to god,
Begging his precious grace
To wash away the rotten ash
Crucified upon his face.
The air was cloaked with righteousness,
It seeped into the pores
Of pagan trees and shrubbery:
Cast out of heaven's doors.
I curled my knees up to my chest,
And wrapped my arms round close,
As cold, damp air embraced my skin,
Invoking the Holy Ghost.
                                                                                   MB.