Losing Faith

Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always somber, always waiting,
frozen here,

Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the beam’s of light,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my darkened mood.

A reflection on an angel’s face.

I raise my head,
now as I submit to this impassive truth.
My faith is breaking,
as if those angelic face’s
cracked into a million pieces,
leaving fragments of my soul
lying there on the floor.

I am a sinner,
a daughter to Adam and Eve,
a martyr for a dying world.
At least that’s what I am lead to believe.


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