Ashen skies mark this solemn day -
"All must die." the priest reminds me.
As he smears a rude cross on my forehead,
I focus on the crucifix on his chest.
The Christ, twisted in pain for my sins.
Kyrie eleison.
Woe, woe, woe - I am a
Man of unclean lips.
I must die, for I have sinned.
Father, accept for the Christ's sake
My ash, my penance,
My contrite heart!
Christe eleison.
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