Hands still clasped in prayer,
You wept; Hosts deserting on
Their wings unbroken, beautiful,
Chasing after a Paradise lost
Only to you.

Hands still clasped in prayer,
You wept; Body no longer soft
Instead sharp, hard, bent angles
On the cracked stone beneath
Your polished skin.

Hands still clasped in prayer,
You wept; Tawny hair rising
With the heat pooling below
In your gut, your eyes, alabaster
Skin shifting hue.

Hands still clasped in prayer,
You wept; Taste of betrayal
Forking your tongue, how bitter
Like smelling salts the brimstone
Clears the passages.

Oh, how did you fall from His right hand, His beloved, when He made you, formed you and gave you thought and speech? How did He not see the questions you’d ask, the path you’d choose, and how did He not know a better way to love you than to torment you? 

Inspired by Alexandre Cabanel’s piece of the same name.