In God’s name palaces built under him moved their place. In his wake - the Synod Horrenda - crippled by death. The accused would meet no defense / His stained glass shaped halo raped in God’s name - Mutilated / Stripped / Daylight unlit in his wake - to face judge, jury, and post-humous executioner. Tear him from his place in the soul - the river would take the old corpse... Tear him from his place in the sky - raised up by the hands of the faithful... Tear his body from its resting place - his final act of healing... Would you even listen? It’s not the hand of God, but your builders (your works) who will bring the collapse of your structures... These people. These people believe in his holy ghost bless me... Touch me with the ring on your finger... Turn me to gold... turn me to dust! Release me from the vessel and let me, holy spirit, raise past the sky... Raise me to heaven...and find me guilty. Condemn me... Stare past my flesh, stare past my rotting skin... As you wish - your Eminence... this seat is yours - your Eminence... And all those who appeared in court that day would never forget the look in his eyes, or the manner in which he spoke. And what rings true in what was said, will live on... and on...