Empty Churches

Around these parts,

The only people that get what they want

Are the people with bad intentions and dark hearts.

More fortunate that the people living on psalms

And Corinthians, I’ll never know what the reason is.

This is the reality that contradicts promises made by God.

Dear father, please give me a blessing

In a form of visibility so I can offer sweet repentance

And acceptance, for I have the blood of doubt within

It needs to be filled with holy water to drown out the sins

Please doctor, come help me, I feel the pain as it pumps,

The doubt running through my veins lacks the son of God’s blood

If not, my alternative is alcohol and drugs, the scar on my heart need to be covered up.

Rush to Sunday service, but the words are not workin’

The messages teach intolerance, that is a dark worship.

The car dealership next door, lies is its purpose

It lies next to the house of God; I should’ve taken it as an omen

But still, I’m foolish and I still attend, hearing recycled messages through another man’s perspective.

How many repeated lessons? 5, 10, more than 11?

Church starts in the morning, and I will be forced to go again.

Under the wooden cross

Is an abyss where doubt was found and faith was lost

The holy water has turned to wine

His crown of thorns has punctured my mind

Please let me testify

Reality has left my faith to die, left to die

Baptism was offered

But I refused it

I felt the soul cleansing I needed was in the music

It cleansed me of anonymity, is that a wrong way of learnin’

It helped me more than any fuckin’ sermon

Save me Holy Father, if it’s you I have dishonored

But have you bothered to wipe the tears I held for so long, now even longer

15 years of waiting, I can feel my heart burst

Every psychologist I met has made my stress even stronger

It’s now when I write in my journal, I found an outlet,

But everyone else thinks I need another psych to force me to get talkin’

Everyone believes my writings are useless

But these are my mental movements

They are my heart’s blueprints

Open for anyone to read

But any judgments, I will close it

I have sins that made me who I am,

And no one needs to know it.

So I write them, that’s why I doubt Him

Because I find the church’s words less permanent than my ink pen

Dear Jesus, it’s your true wisdom I lack, my soul suffers from panic attacks  

Let me see your true research, my faith is having seizures

Let me land in your grace feet first

I would give anything in the world

To be baptized of my sins and open these dusty curtains

But I was looking for God in Empty Churches

I want your words to be trusted

But I found nothing in these Empty Churches

Under the wooden cross

Is an abyss where doubt was found and faith was lost

The holy water has turned to wine

His crown of thorns has punctured my mind

Please let me testify

Reality has left my faith to die, left to die