Although God gave them his back forever, they stand at the Church´s doors. The chorus kids have always liked God as their guardian, their defender. They look like angels, they were angels. They look defenseless, because they were defenseless
The night has come and it’s hard not to watch them because they shine with the stars light. Their clothes turn from white to violet in a second. Their eyes start to see the sky, their hands, to open. The wind darkens the night with a low, quiet music. Their mouths are now open. The air gets paralyzed. The temperature is getting down.
They look at you, you look at them. They start to sing, speaking at you. You don´t know why, but you’ve got still, stopped, your legs wouldn´t move.
Their music arises with the lights of the houses that are near from the Church and no one wants to miss the show. Now, people are watching from their homes: Your teacher, your fathers, your friends. You are a kid and you don´t know why doesn’t anybody protects you.
Their faces are shown for what they are. The sadness floods the city, you can even see the river that moves from side to side, all along the street, you believe that you are going to get drown , but you won´t move, you will listen the music.
Your hands are wet. You are breathing at full speed, but the pain that comes from the mind is making dust from your body. It’s crashed with memories that you don´t realize you remember, it is overwhelmed with feelings you´ve never felt.
The priest will turn up and he would say to you: “Why don´t you join us?”
You will walk down the streets, night after night, thinking only that souls hunting has started and you are hungry, you and the chorus kids.