#1
He called out, the little boy; he called from above me for his mother.
I looked up at first because it sounded as if he was hanging from the
Cathedral ceiling. When I realized I wasn?t in the cathedral
But in an underground office I turned for the stairs.

Both parents were being summoned now, and his voice was
Rising in a fearful, angry crescendo.
?Why did you leave me here??
his accent echoed past me up the spiraling steps
and I looked back expecting to see a
small body huddling in the deeply shadowed corner
I must have overlooked.

Sound waves were playing tricks on me again
As my lantern found naught but stone.
I continued my ascent and came finally to the cathedral.
The Cathedral where all catacombs? deposit their putrid
Products. The small voice resounded like a trumpet
Around the pillars and off the walls; a serpentine green flame
Circling the marble and ricocheting within my mind;
A deadly bullet ready to snap some vital brain function.
I looked under the pews, each and every one, but he was not there.

I wondered if my search was in vain; perhaps it is a small girl
Rather than a boy and my selective sight has blocked her view.
Yes, that must be it.
I re-searched the entire Cathedral, each rotting corner,
Every rancid stone, the vile bibles entwined with blackened vines.
She was not inside.

I sat down in the confessions booth, the bullet in my brain brushing
Closer and closer with each passing.
The skeleton of a known righteous priest sat separated by the wall from me.
He turned his head toward me with half closed eye lids and opened his mouth:
?You cannot see with so much light, boy, open your eyes.?
The dust from his mouth settled on a bible, but seemed to burn off.
The voice was in my head.

Why did they leave me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Yeah I'm really unsure about this one, tell me if you like it, or if you just like the overall idea. I don't know if it's finished yet, I might add more onto this one or I might make a second part to it or I might just leave it.