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Forlorn

by Brian Francis

I walked on into the cathedral
It was a quiet afternoon
Found my way to the altar
Listening to an organ tune
The candles smelled of carbon
The aura of heaven hung in the air
And the Eucharist candle was burning
Meaning God was waiting there

While the priest did something priestly
beneath an effigy hung on the wall
An old lady sang out her devotion
And the bells rang out their call
A bum slept near the baptismal
Laying across a hand carved pew
And the light above the confessional
Invited sinners to line up in queue

When I knelt down on a kneeler
Tears ran down my face
My spirit had finally remembered
The pain that had come in this place
I called out to God in the moment
And the flames wavered and flared
The people all turned to ignore me
But the bum looked like he cared

No answer came to my pleading
No healing was found on my knees
the echoes of faith's last clutch hold
Being shattered rang through the eaves
And the torture of the loss of conviction
Torn away from the spirit and soul
Gaping wounds bleeding resentment
All being left, a small part of the whole

01/07/2004

Posted on 01/07/2004
Copyright © 2024 Brian Francis

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Meghan Helmich on 08/14/08 at 04:12 PM

i'm sorry, brian. i know the feeling.

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