xvii

death, come gather us in our guilty houses
the cathedrals that rot inside of our chests
such bedeviled pagans we have harboured
what sacrificial tokens have we forfeit
the idol was ripped from our grasp

replaced by yet another spoiled carcass
let the venom spill from its mouth agape
brimming with intoxicating succour
the waters were tainted from the beginning
we simply found a greater purpose for its poison

settling into the normalcy of psychosis daydreams
wading still, waiting for the flood
in the wake of miracle and punishment
we stole repentance from the hands of lepers
scorched the earth as they slept

as ordained, to the deacons the ashes sold
in the same breath prayer was uttered
fingers were crossed and the candles were choked
praise our avarice, bathe in its bloodspill
they’ll regret nothing as they mourn everything