i bear the cross of faith
tied down to the angels of
Heaven.
He listens to my praises
like the whisper of windchimes.
a tickling of silver tongues.

in the trying times
He burns in my head
a fireball of glory
a lavish thought in my brain.
He instills fear
He instills pride.

we read the words from His Grace
memorising the holy scripture
pretending like we understand Him
pretending like He
understands us.
the loss of faith is lost upon all.

and so as i sing these monotonous
phrases of glory
inside the church of alabaster
i ask of Him a delirious question
and he would answer deliriously.
a consciousness of oneself.

and as i feel my feet on the floor
the gold tiles freezing my soles
i bring into His Grace
a sinner
i ask myself
i reside in a golden cathedral.

i bear the cross of faith

life strides in mellowsteps
in the quickening of time
petals fall
denting the floor
scarlet red

entry to the darkest
promised light a burnt torch
narrow pathways an inch wide
cry

screeching of shredded metal
scraps laying down a support
simulation simulating nothing
under cheated by denied stress

a black gunshot
made blank by insignificant thoughts
head punctured by a billion holes
dried blood dripping to the floor

life calms to a hard
stop
squeezed air
sinking into blind fire

leaflets of chasms
turn the page over
words scrambled
blackout of grey dark text
life ceases in the eye