Transport Me, Gormley
I have been to church My ears have heard sermons My voice has sang hymns but my soul stopped going
It questioned my beliefs so articulately that I sometimes strayed with it and together we redefined sins. When I die they will want to place my body back in the church I visited vaulted ceilings and painted glass provide easier ascension But when my soul pays its respects it will linger Suspended by Gormley Adorned with the thousand nails of our transgressions Their added weight will fight against the prayers that hammer upwards Without the blunt heads of sins they would have nothing to hit except my soul and it bruises easily. So my soul will be forced to stay in a place it stopped coming to A place of judgement until someone determines if the nails should be pulled out or pushed completely in.