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- At the altar for some bread; something else I got instead:
- A weaponed cross against my head that broke my heart and made me bled.
- Hoping for a holy drink but in the time that I could blink,
- My head is filled with awful stink, into my hardened seat did sink.
- Long ago, you were a friend, but maybe that has reached its end;
- So frivolously you did offend, that maybe now it’s just pretend.
- Now I sit here seething still, my heart and soul are feeling ill.
- Anger did my breathing fill, platitudes are leaving chill.
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