Relics of the Dark Age

I dont like the ending, but then again, Howling wolf didnt like the electric guitar at first either (please review)

She was built like a cathedral, with stained glass eyes

No bats in the belfry, but gargoyles in every corner of the ceiling 
I took her for the Renaissance, Though she swore her architecture was of a midevil influence 
So I signed up to take the tour
Her halls were adorned with a mosaic 
Portraying portraits that seemed to come alive as they were being described
The scene would repeat, and if you watched closely
Even a layman could be brought to understanding
Now behind the pulpit was no cross
Only the lighter shade of were one once was
Stranger still was the cemetery secluded in her courtyard
Where the statues of weeping angels stand guard
Faces eroded from tears they've cried
Centuries set to watch over all her loves that have died
Large daunting tombstones
lie scattered in crooked, jagged rows
Oh How thick the silence 
Only ever broken by the cawing of crows
Oh How eery must come the night
When her apparitions take to haunting her home
A lady in white, its as though she wishes her self a ghost
And the farther down the corridor we'd go
The more I found myself wishing I was a priest
A desire that had never before courted me
But Oh to be bishop over a basilica such as this
Was now all I wanted
Ye though I could never gain entrance beyond the bounds of an escorted guest
For lo, This peasant is far from a priest
That shan't stop me trying 
I may hold no merit as a prophet
But I am a skilled lock pick