Broken, bleeding, slumbering.
It sat at the end of the pew.
In an empty church, the altar awaited.
A hapless soul with arms crossed,
Dressed in best, in case there was a ball.
Tears and prayers, down on the knees;
Begging for alms that were never received.
It was shrouded in pink, wanting to blink;
Dead within, dead without, breathing was a sin.
Stained glass windows, and an invisible choir,
Take me, it said, I have no fear.