Slender beams of sunlight enter
This darkened church as I kneel,
Always supplicating, always in pain,
Frozen here,
Waiting.

Haloed forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
Dust dances in the air,
Forming an image in my mind,
Sparing not my exposed flesh.

Tears on an angel’s face.

I raise my head, now crying out for
This morbid reality.