screaming through stained glass

looking out of those windows
those great panes of colored glass
i can see the light of heaven
but not the trees or grass
look at the people
staring at nothing
light in their eyes
blinding their minds
to the multitude of colored faces.
what is this edifice of stone and of brass?
this tiny work of human hands
that hides my face from sun and the wind.
the stained ages can not compare to the light, blue and white-
the light of the sun, the light of the stars!
scream! scream and weep.
scream at the faces.
scream at the rock.
scream at the panes who hide the evil moon,
that moon and its maddening light-
its frightful hateful revealing light,
the hatred of nature and truth.