Devil died.
He found himself alone.
In heaven.

Candle, candle, where you breathe,                                  
may this light of yours succeed.
Candle, candle, bright and pure,                                      
from the flames of hell return.
Candle, candle, where you breathe,                                  
may this flame of yours succeed,
Candle, candle, wise and strong,                                    
bring forth your heavenly perfumes,
cease the wars, cease the injustice,
vanish at once the filth of sinners.
Candle, candle, where you are,                                        
bring forth your light, let it increase.
Candle, candle, bright and strong,                                  
from the depths of hell return,
place the jewels of Heaven on the mouths of all sinners.
Candle, candle, deep allure,                                                  
may the flames of hell adorn,                                            
with the light of Heaven glows,                                        
with the piercing brightness flow.

Faith found me in the crowd,
With wondering eyes and messy hair,
Leant against the bathroom wall.

So I found Faith in a cafe chair,
With hot coffee and a smile,
More sober than before.

I find Faith in things I thought I buried;
In smaller sensations and softer senses.
I find Faith in holding hands;
And crying over movies;
In hugs and daily check ins;
In stupid jokes and surprises.

In small reminders of how easy
loving is supposed to feel.
I thank Faith for the Faith she has restored in me.

So for our Father,
Who art in heaven,
Hallowed be her name,
When her kingdom comes,
Leave me undone,
As on earth she is my heaven.

And I would make this my daily prayer,
If my disposition allowed as much,
You see Faith had a Faith in me,
Just as the Faithful have Faith in false prophets.
I've never been so good at religion,
My mind questions too much-
Has too little Faith in Faith and the Faithful.

So as I leave this altar running,
Hail me the false prophet,
And pin my memory to a crucifix.
This crown of thorns hangs heavy in blood;
These feet find their way to the confessional once more.
I never meant to be a sinner.
Father forgive me,
For the damage I've done.