Baclaran's Call
What glory it bids?
If I’m lured to go
Where pious and not
Traverse to and fro.
Hear the music—loud
Bombastic speakers
Match the vendor’s call.
To hear the swindles
Make-out with lewdness
As the church bell strikes
Match looming prayers.
So prays the contrite,
The devout as well.
Both sinner and saint
Came to pass or dwell.
What co-existence
The music and noise,
Truth and connivance,
Beauty and discord.
It’s where prayers bind
With curses, entwined.
Indeed, what a state,
To dwell in heav’n’s den,
And in sin’s haven.
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