In a dark, damp room, a little girl
With a tiny candle he prays to the icon,
And under the robe white web mesh
Covers the face of the boy in the crown.
The house smells of incense, the cat is basking under the curtain,
Eyes blurred he sees pale angels.
Faces haggard with grace glow,
Driving away the ghosts of stray dogs.
Fragile baby cross twists in her fingers,
He prays sobbing giving himself up to faith
Windy again and forgetting the curse of the deceiver
That left the boy in a soft white body.