I am oppressed by Cathedral tunes
Of another age, or am I so ancient thus?
Carrying a Heavenly Hurt
From life to life, like a thief –
With little internal indifference
And hugged purple scars
That give me my cup of meaning
For the water of brief identity
It’s an imperial affliction to be
A part of a world you don’t believe in
A species, that made wrong choices
There’s shadows everywhere
Hold your breath, do not partake
In the look of death, though it kills you
Without a sound, this is the life
We have been given –
the appalling calculations, as a
Funeral on the road, with
No pennies for flowers
Without self-forgiveness on wild nights.
Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sunkissed-0469-399845418
Wuji Seshat 
Reading this, my thoughts automatically go back to my parochial school days as a choir boy, whose songs I actually still enjoy hearing. However, because of an experience at thirteen years of age with Church corruption (which may not be everywhere, but has existed in various forms for centuries) I renounced my organized faith for free thinking. Not sure if your poem reflects any of this. Just thought I’d share this. Have a wonderful day.