01-02-2016, 11:58 PM
its golden cross affixed atop
an altar looms above the nave
here priests instruct their callow crop
a crown of thorns, a shadow's grave
a crown of thorns,
an empty grave,
but which translation
shall we save?
an altar looms above the nave
here priests instruct their callow crop
a crown of thorns, a shadow's grave
a crown of thorns,
an empty grave,
but which translation
shall we save?
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you
-T.S. Eliot (The Wasteland)
Why then Ile fit you
-T.S. Eliot (The Wasteland)

