He does not fold his arms in prayer,
Bow his head down in respect;
He does not feel the warmth of the blessed fire,
Drink the holy water with perched lips
And why does he not?
Does he have no faith?
Wherein does his faith lie, then?
Does he believe in luck, chance -
All that unnecessary hullabaloo?
Or does he believe in destiny,
The questionable force of life?
Or does he believe in charms, magic;
The sacrilege that is voodoo?
Or worse yet - himself?
And to all that he meets,
He remains faithless...
X-x-X
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