A Return To The Cathedral

A sequel of sorts to "A Promise To Keep To You, The Tainted Saints"

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They cut out my tongue in fifth grade

When they ignored my complaints of injustice

I woke up to the feeling that I was a leaf floating in the haze

Raindrops fall juxtaposed with crippled insurrections of hearts colliding

There was a time I knew who I was

But that was strangled by second guessing

The story of my tainted saints continues


The tainted saints I first knew died within months of lost respect and burning flowers

They never knew that I loved them for who they were,

A mix of scars and muddled bones, cracked at centers of distrust and hate

With beating hearts and no one to abate the shame

I loved the tainted saints.


I loved the tainted saints as I watched them brace for blades that cut inside their hearts like lies

All their friends blind to the madness that came from the saints and their broken home

I watched as the sisters corroded away like eroded banks, and tried to use my intellect while my life became a hole where all my memories twisted into arrows

Arrows that flew across painted mindscapes I could never reproduce


There are three Tainted Saints in my life

One was the inspiration, she who preaches quick witted truth with the ease of pulling a trigger

The other two, I could not save, sisters, Miranda and Maria


I have struggled, and I have suffered

I have forgotten and I have sinned

I have learned that I am no longer a slave to approval

But to Him


I entered a church four months before coming here

They sat in chairs in a dance hall as a woman waxed insane about children in hell

Gays not inheriting the Kingdom, hushed spoken tongues as though the Spirit scared them

That there was ONE path to God (Pay money to find out)


Then one day I walked through a cathedral, and saw her face upon the glass window

The Tainted Saint who was once (to herself) a worthless whore

I alone can see her.  I alone can hear her

She is still crying tears of sheltered blood with all her shattered dreams now slowly disintegrating as time dissipates in steady ticks.


She looks at me, and her silver eyes gaze across the marble floor

Evermore thinking of that past life where the sister tried to die

The guilt that still lays dormant, waiting for the right time to be used by Satan in a lie

That emptiness, the kind that pervades that which animates her

The lie she’s told to others, even though they be slight reoccurs to that steel-trap mind

She must




I stand baffled, my eyes wide

She prostrates herself towards the cross, streaming fresh droplets of rain

Down down down the whitewashed tiles

The look of subjugation mixed with anguish that would stain the windows forevermore

And leave me shaken to the core.


I kneel in front of this woman, placing a hand softly on her shoulder as she cries against my chest

I want so badly to hold and console her as she cleanses herself of horrible sorrow

But I have no words to ease the pain


Then they come soft as silk and warm as honey

“Darling, there’s no need to grieve anymore

Over failed alarms you ignored

No need to apologize for the suffering you and others endured

You were forgiven of that so long ago

It still stands my dear, because His word is eternal

You are forgiven, cherished and adored

And He is always nearest when you need support

Believe in Him and especially His forgiveness.


You hold the ideal I had before I knew you existed

The heart you have conflagrates and invades mine with its burning embers

I have nothing to say but how much I love the spirit that we share that is drifting through the midnight air

Beneath the bullets of past regret lies a heart craving solace.”


I pause, looking down into her eyes

She heaves a deep sigh, and I wonder why

Why is she in disarray?

I am compelled to stay

Then the words of the Father come and say

“You were sent here to serve and to save the tormented from early graves

You’re still young, and the path you are on, leads to better days

I called you here to send a message to the tainted saint

And soon you too shall see the dawn of a new age.”

I help the tainted saint to her feet

“Dear warrior, you are saved because you believe

Shining upon man, dear warrior, you’re a  prophetess of tomorrow

Saving souls and guiding the willing sheep to The Father.”


We walk out of the Cathedral, hand in hand

And are reborn again, watching paper thin sand sift though tides

Having a purpose, and not really knowing why.

The End

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