Atonement

Moon washed beaches where wingless angels sat.

Sacerdotal gathering.

Agape with the murmurings of their chosen deity.

Hoping to bathe in divinity, escape the burdens of mortality.

Hypocrites preach unwavering morality.

With a touch of the hand, a sinner becomes a saint.

Scriptural traditions.

Holy missions.

Bless me, for I have sinned.

I lived freely in my skin.

Is this covenant binding?

I'm weary of hiding, draining the very essence of me.

the reward for my devotion, the immortality of the soul.

So many sanctimonious promises they rave,

when the finality I know is a grave.

Stuart isalittlebroken Johns