How many times have I sung these hymns
that promise salvation, but still the dread
of heaven's closed dome. Do I have to be dead,
to be washed clean of the burden of my sins,
pray until blood drips from my head?
How many times have I sung these hymns
ash smeared on my forehead, salt beaded into my skin
to make me worthy of the blood that was shed
so that I, worm of the dust, could be saved...
How many times have I sung these hymns?
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