The Show is Over

A choral sound still echoes
Soft through dusty, darkened nave
Cathedral of my mind now empty
Hollow of those souls I’ve saved

Hallowed was the path they’d tread
Without infernal litanies
Pity, moved by mouths we fed
Self-referential liturgies

And as the candles dribble flat
Upon the chilly stones beneath
I recollect what thoughts grew fat
As mourners laid their threaded wreath

Old bodies plump with hoarded pride
To know their lives were meaningful
Expressions rapt, ears open wide
Intent on straining moral gruel

Our simple kindness passing fair
Gives voice to what they call divine
With dissonance to clear the air
When all they taste is bread and wine

And as we pass from Earthly grace
To twist and shout in crypts below
I lay my blessings on this place
At this, the ending of the show

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