Are you Saved?

The rain falls like ghosts
on the streets that are gray,
tapping heels like the dancers
of hell's sin parade,
laughing and cooing and counting
their slaves,
the addicts to flesh
who think they are saved.

And the saints, how they long
in distress of the fate
that so many helpless sinner's await.
Their loved ones and siblings
and children await.

The saints,
how they anguish
and pray
and wait.