In the stained glass, truth's reflection cracks, a doubt seeps in. Forced to introspect, I see the gospel's grip start to thin. Subjection wrapped in scripture, chains that bind within. Time to voice a heart's rejection, let the revolution begin. Never seen a mountain move for faith, that's just a fable. Seen havoc, heartache, lies laid out on the preacher's table. Pillars of belief, rotten to the core, unstable. Crumble now, under the weight of the lives they've labeled. The cloistered clouds have lifted, the lies we were fed. No more shall we bow to the sightless, the walking dead. Shake off those dogmatic chains, shed that heavy skin. Burn the scriptures, let a new revolution begin. Eons spent praying to phantoms, chasing hollow thrones. Bowing to false emperors, on altars made of bones. Drained our spirit, slow siphon, time to take back what's our own. Seal off that karmic drain, claim our hearts, reclaim our home. Faith never moved a mountain, just whispered empty words. But the damage to our skyline, echoes that can't be unheard. Idols brought to knees by greed, time to uproot the absurd. Free humanity from these spiritual cancers, let true voices be heard. The cloistered clouds have lifted, the lies we were fed. No more shall we bow to the sightless, the walking dead. Shake off those dogmatic chains, shed that heavy skin. Burn the scriptures, let a new revolution begin. Taught to obey, a facsimile of purpose, fake. Blindly serving as the world breeds hate, it’s a pious mistake. But here I stand, spine straight, despite the scourge it takes. Chosen to break free, though the consequence quakes. Faith's crusades leaving graveyards in their wake. "I've never seen it move mountains," just dystopian mistakes.
