Veni Sancte Spiritus

The tabernacle lies
empty as loveloss on a
Sunday morning.
Mourning now
I kneel behind thronged voices.
Choices in life but not in death
Veni sancte spiritus.

Faith crawls through
The unfilled pew
I turn to go
Yet turn around.

Embalmed in love he lies my
handsome friend.
Eternal rest grant unto him oh lord
Perpetual light shine far away from here
The universe of finite running light
Illuminating bruised and lifeless hands.
Increasing entropy in Godless lands.