Poem: “Black Church” by Jonah

There was a black church
In the land of mist and clouds!
Dressed in darkness inside
And so all the surrounds…
A holy cross rose atop,
Dark itself, too, so dull.
Built on an ancient graveyard
Of a hundred million skulls!
Days pass by… years just die…
But still it is this gloomy night!
Silence spread… that of the dead…
A witness to the death of light!

There, an old man prays…
To gods unidentified!
Alive, his flesh decays
Rotting before he died!
Down he kneels again
As far as he can…
Gazes at the dark…
And slowly embarks.
Emptiness…
Nothingness…
So called holiness!