The cardinal

I dare to dream, to the end of spiritual finality. The fad in the cradle over the saint in the cathedral. White robes for service, save one for their deathbed. Its decadence is oozing in the squares. The obtuse of theatricals, better the oils in the parlors. I see the light, and its awakening is here. The cardinal of morality, inherently cold, none will be saved; on their deathbed they'll lay. Once the tribe of Levi, nothing holds but vile. Africa is changed, or maybe it never needed to change.