Your Temple (Not what I thought it was)
By Syn
The curtains of your temple
will drape to the floor
Only the sacred will enter
Only the pure
And inside your temple
Songs will be sung
Prayers will be chanted
The dead will be hung
The candles will give
the softest of glow
and life will be sacrificed
and faces will show
That inside your temple
there is cruelty and spite
And inside your temple
everyone will die
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Copyright 2004 Syn
Published on Sunday, July 4, 2004.
Filed under:
"Poetry"