The innocence we portray,

as though we are not guilty in any way,

is the lie that we rise to greet each day,

and it’s colorful demise is brightest on Sunday.

Even as some gather between the mortar and brick

the lie returns tomorrow, and there, they will pick

to ignore all that was claimed in the pious clique

under the steeple where deception made them tick.

Religious tradition; love not taken to heart.

The church that God began was quickly ripped apart.

Rome took control and told them where to start.

Now, Catholics and Protestants alike are deceived when taking part.

Church is not a place, yet society calls it one.

If I don’t go, I’m surely not worthy to some.

Yet, God called me to be the Church, and He told me to come

unto His heart…nothing else to be done.

So, on Sunday, I simply rest in His Son.