Hymn hypocritical

Confessional. The fetid prayers lie:

What sins were made we commit yet again,

And yet again do we decry our pain

Through Lent, Advent, the Easter, and July.

My fervent mother bleeds sweat in her cry

While forced Virginity watches inane

From such an altar. Needlessly reslain

Each year, the Saviour’s hope-despairing sigh:

O Lord, my God, why’st thou forsaken me?

A humble tree exalted—sacred freak?

The robèd clergy rile our guilt. What see

You when the incense clouds humanity?

Such breath as from the holy nostrils reek

Is grape and blood and sin, eternally.

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