Just like pumpkins
Carved out to be spooky faces
Saints, were men and women,
Who were carved out,
To go beyond their birth right,
Transcending mortality,
Iconoclasts that defied the rule of thumb
Like Copernicus once did,
And just like the lid of the pumpkin,
You see halos hovering on top
Of these saintly heroes,
And a light flickering inside,
Showing they too had battles within,
Between radiance and darkness,
Where only light triumphed.
