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Slender beams of accusation enter
this darkened place,
like moonlight through naked branches,
falling onto the cold marble floor
as I kneel,
frozen here,
in pain and hope.
Waiting.

Haloed forms wrought in panes of glass dance in the air,
their purity rending my darkened spirit.
I don't belong here.

I am an obscenity here,
Like blood on a child's face.

Kneeling in a sea of marble and moonlight
like the body of a fallen angel
crawling home.