After your conversion you took me to church,
When I was uncomfortable with institutional order,
Displeased that you had taken the easy way out.
Yet what you showed me may have been the best
In a long series of ventures we choreographed.
Sermons of curious meaning graced my thoughts,
Stained-glass windows of the Story roused my eyes,
Rhythmic spirituals from a choir danced in my ears,
Spiraling unity shifted my perspective on religion,
All these sensations unfamiliar to me, a crazed boy
Recovering from falling in the bog of adolescence.
I came, I saw the light, I left, never to return,
For truth be told, it was the greatest of times,
Right as my spirit was unfurling, coming out of
The cocoon I'd spent a whole year escaping from.
I could not spoil that special feeling by pretending
I was one of you, holding hands in a caravan of bliss.
Now I wonder how far you took it, whether the military
Drowned your dogma or made it stronger, paradoxically,
The way country farmers laud the schemes of city slickers.
Where have you gone, old friend, what life have you lead,
Did you let that passion pollute you, or purify your breath,
How many children have you had, are you already dead?
When I was uncomfortable with institutional order,
Displeased that you had taken the easy way out.
Yet what you showed me may have been the best
In a long series of ventures we choreographed.
Sermons of curious meaning graced my thoughts,
Stained-glass windows of the Story roused my eyes,
Rhythmic spirituals from a choir danced in my ears,
Spiraling unity shifted my perspective on religion,
All these sensations unfamiliar to me, a crazed boy
Recovering from falling in the bog of adolescence.
I came, I saw the light, I left, never to return,
For truth be told, it was the greatest of times,
Right as my spirit was unfurling, coming out of
The cocoon I'd spent a whole year escaping from.
I could not spoil that special feeling by pretending
I was one of you, holding hands in a caravan of bliss.
Now I wonder how far you took it, whether the military
Drowned your dogma or made it stronger, paradoxically,
The way country farmers laud the schemes of city slickers.
Where have you gone, old friend, what life have you lead,
Did you let that passion pollute you, or purify your breath,
How many children have you had, are you already dead?
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