She was a famous mother of the church, worked long hours
to help the poor die - with some dignity - on a straw mat.
Total her dedication but bitter was her heart, she prayed
to a god that did not deign to give her a replay, just a long
enduring silence, a telepathic phone call never answered
the hum of eternity, futility and nothingness.
The ungodly world recompensed her, she was feted and
travelled first class, meeting the high and influential and
movie stars were eager to have their photos taken with her.
She kissed the pope's ring - few women get that accolade
and the gallant pope with the world's eye resting on him
kissed her hands. But her heart grew bitter in her old age she
lost faith and in her heart forswore his presence, pushed him
out like a suitor who only had empty promises in his sack.
