for so long, I was young

to take the attitude
of the best friend.
I don't feel it anymore.
to with true, quiet joy, recite your mass.
Oh.
Oh, God.
Oh, Immanuel.
Coincidence, no.
Apocalypse, not.

But he, without waiver, spoke the Father's word.
Thy will...
but, not the perfect one, no.
just a mimicry,
Yet even the poorest still life indicates the first fruit.

and this, is this harvestable whatsoever?