I sit here
Where many a desperate soul
must have sat
searching for God in this cold stone edifice
oblivious to the warm beating heart beside
Where faithful must have knelt
Pouring a thousand dreams
Into lifeless beads
Solitary in this place of gathering
And when they leave
So do their faiths
Tucked in worn out prayer books
Hiding their wounds in laughter
While they live their lives again
Forgetting that the gods have already died.
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