It is snowing in my soul Swirls of icy air swoop about me And my only refuge Is a cold, crumbling church Guarded by a grinning gargoyle With his claws embedded in my feebly beating heart. Itβs colder still inside The pews are crusted with ice like slate And the stained glass windows show Drooping tortured souls In Christlike agony All forsaken. Penitent, I huddle at the altar But thereβs no reviving wine To gently wash away my sin