It was just like the lightning that flashes east to west. Just like an oncoming storm. It was just like a coffin, the hollow in my chest, just like the Bible, just like I'd been warned. I was tending the garden, pulling up the weeds, trying to bear righteous fruit. But a man's fertile soil was Satan's soldier's (?) seed, He will plow up your garden to plant a poison root. He came for my sister, she walked a narrow trail. She'd follow wherever he'd lead. But I took the highway, I faltered and I fell. He came for my sister, but he did not come for me. Now I kneel at the altar of the church of vacant pews; in the rafters a chorus of crows. They sing like a hymnal of rusted organ tunes. They sing like the broken heart of one who knows.