No women to love,
this monastery of regret,
holding on to images
of ghosts
Alone, dreaming, feeling
dead without hope
Prayers of empty words,
ye of little faith,
Buried in graves of time,
with nothing to look forward to
Pointless meditation, the empty
empty, where nothing is accomplished
Circumstantial celibacy,
holographic pornography
Weakness in the seclusion,
a religion of self loathing
Your place of worship
is now your prison,
controlled by the past,
love has made you hollow