Corrupt Faith -worktitleHands folded, I pray. Lord Saviour, grant me your blessing and deliver me from sin, for I have indeed sinned once again. Hands folded I repeat these words, their meaning long lost in a sea of atrocities. The rosary beads slide easily off her neck. It had to be this way. The Lord wanted it to be this way, for His will does indeed coincide with that of the Patriarch. I do not shed a tear; it is not our way. She was my sister, but no less, one cannot mourn the death of a heretic. I carefully place her body in the position of the Crucifix, they must repent, in their deaths if not in their time among the living. All the necessary rituals have beenCorrupt Faith -worktitle
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