L.A. Salami - “No Hallelujahs Now“

Some lame condition impedes his vision in the rain and his indecision is betrayed. Some holy scriptures make up the pictures of his pains, in a frenzied fiction in-between the frame; clothes black as snake eyes - same apparel all the time, half lidded stoic stone wall in his mind; He claims that he don’t pray but he’ll always bow. The priests would have him saved but they don’t know how. And the saints sing it loud: “No hallelujahs now!“ He’s scared of the daylight, he wasn’t gifted with a skin thick enough to accommodate his sin, but he always crawls back into her open arms whenever she calls out to him. Coarse palms and grazed knees, burnt back, he’s withdrawn so easily - Scorched pride, disenchanted pine of his father’s seed; He claims that he don’t pray but he’ll always bow; The priests would have him saved but they don’t know how. And the saints sing it loud: “No hallelujahs now!“ His mother is silent to him - all jail and no trial, and the entrails of his grief all entail the details of this hell,