The mark of suffering cut into your flesh
slowly healing
vanishing under the tearful rain
the swings and round-a-bouts of sectarianism
bigotry and undiluted hate
made you
carved you
a hidden place of worship for an Eastern prophet
among the tombs of older softly whispered gods
despite your Latin tongue
despite your violent birth
you are now part of this temple
this folly to Man’s hope of immortality
false idols and faith die here
side by side
become memories
wonders for an out-of-breath journeyman
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