mem'ry of the bone servant


Slender beams of moonlight enter this darkened church as I kneel,always in pain, always a slave,frozen here,waiting.

Robed forms wrought in panes of glass loom as dust dances in the air, forming an image in my mind,spearing my darkened soul.

Terror on an angel's face.

I raise my head, now crying out for this uncaring Heaven for im a man that favors the brethen!