The Church Of The Broken Spirit Poem by Gypsy Davey

The Church Of The Broken Spirit



Welcome stranger, take a pew,
talk if you feel fit,
or sit in silence, as I do,
in the church of the Broken Spirit.

The congregation prays with hope,
as they slide down a foetid pit,
tortured souls, still seeking peace
in the church of the Broken Spirit.

Ha! hear that sermon ring out loud
'REPENT, and do your bit'
no absolution granted here
in the Church of the Broken Spirit

'Bitter me? , as Satan's sweat'
yet next to me you sit
take care not to wear this cloak of despair
in the Church of the Broken Spirit

Drink deeply from this chalice of ire,
take heed friend, mind the grit
we choke on pity, not particles
in the Church of the Broken Spirit

And should some pilgrim say to you
'Fight on, you can't submit.'
just stare at him with knowing eyes
in the Church of the Broken Spirit

'Cos from your eyes he'll see
what he seeks,
won't be,
and his dreams like an atom will split
and he'll join the queue,
to take a pew
in the Church of the Broken Spirit

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Gypsy Davey

Gypsy Davey

Halifax
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