The archbishop walks in the midst of steeples and arrays of cathedrals amany.

Having sown doubt, fear, having sown reasonlessness in the people, he walks.

In serving God he has unknowingly served the Devil, and he is okay with this.

His pocket is heavy, there will be coin spent at the pub and the brothel tonight.

Wicker baskets and wicked smiles, and midnight light, and  laughter undivine.

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