I like to visit the holy churches,
With inner humbleness in soul,
To enter a gloomy foggy chorus,
To vanish in the singing throng.
I'm scared with my two-faced soul
And catiously hide its image in
The armour looking like a holiness,
But evil though, wild within.
I seek in superstitious praying
The shield for me by Jesus Christ,
But under mask so hypocritical
The lying lips are grinning this.
And silently, with altered aspect
In deadly blinking light of candles,
I wake up memory of Two-Faced
In hearts of here praying people.
And sudden shudder stopped the chorus,
All rushed away in open brawl...
I like to visit the holy churches,
With inner humbleness in soul.
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