The Church
You are my church
I am on my knees for you
Bowing my head
I pray I pray I pray for your peace
I throw coins at your pleas for reconstruction
Your congregation look at me with sympathetic eyes
I make sacrifice after sacrifice
Because I have faith
I am your church
You beg for forgiveness
Knowing my doors are always open
You find comfort and shelter
And repent your sins
The familiar scent of incense and woodwork that has withstood centuries of turmoil make you feel immortal
But one more tear of wax from the candle
May finally set this shrine ablaze
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