she laughed at me when i told her she was my fetish
she admired my strength
my will
my glorious anger
my limitless sorrow
but she never understood my worship of all things her
or what it did to me when she snuffed the candle and took her light away
so when she called
again
she assumed the doors of the church would be thrown wide open again
that i would kneel in supplication at the altar of her
not knowing the once consecrated land had been salted
not seeing the burnt offerings of open eyes i had desecrated her statues with
her sermon was a false gospel yet i let her baptize me in those poisoned waters
and the things she so admired
now filled her with venomous hate
as i lay weeping for the angel with dirty feet
lighting the wick on the smouldering feathers hanging limply off her back
and eyes once blinded by temptation/now opened to falsehoods/ever more/ever more/
Oh this is brilliantly regrettably sad!
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regrettably sad would be a great title
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Damnation! This is burnin’ ma feet!
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