A college of cardinals

that brims with cardinal

sins, a conclave of

mysticism manufactured, 

enclave of a complacency

so rarely fractured; 

a hub of pomp and

circumstance, harbouring

a pretense of the 

apostolic, enough to

conceal the vitriolic. 

 

Fumata nera, or bianca?

No one worthy of the stigmata. 

And the epoch's achromatopsia

ensures that the veritable

rests obscure.