Holy water on fingers and head -
I am not your kind -
Still the water cools, no seething
Solace allows for the easy breathing
of a troubled mind.

Upon entrance I find
emptiness, which is relieving,
And music in preparation for the dead.
A girl-child with nothing to be said
Stops short to wonder before leaving.

Reverence begets believing
Some are born to be led
Blind.
Some are designed
To question with a heart of lead.

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