The Cherubs fell to cracked stone floor
In a billion shards of splendor.
The Willows wept in decrepit yard
Courted by stormy winds and yet still tender.
Splintered pews in ruined rank
Stand guard for the heavens.
The walls cast shadows of blinding light
And the lost souls they beckon.
Kneel and pray at altar charred
To any force you choose.
Whisper words of guilt and shame
And all that you may lose.
The idols rot and pray,
Looking unto the skies.
They sing these silent hymns
And wait until faith dies...
Armchair Poetry 