In this hollow dwelling I tremble
As the pieces of me disassemble
A hanging crucifix reminds me cruelly
Of the cross I bear within me
The ancient words in a distant time
Linger in an echo in my mind
A wrinkled face on a wooden pew
Points a finger, accusing me of my truth
This scorching guilt that burns and sears
Is nothing compared to the overpowering fear
Frightened because I don't want to resist
But More deathly afraid of what many not exist
Condemning eyes await me with a cold hand
Freezing me, I am unable to stand
Yet somehow, mystically I am pulled up
Forced to face the figure awaiting with mocking love
Taking a quick breath, unsure to let it out
What to say, to lie? To unleash my doubt
But I must confess my soul and go on
I pray--how ironic--this won't take long
I gather my unkempt words
Wondering where to begin
I commence with something like
"Father I have sinned."
