In temples meant to be sacred,
There lies the worst forms of hatred,
Even from preachers preaching on pulpits
Though members too are culprits.
Tithe collection is glorified,
While God's flocks are terrified
By these preachers on daily basis
Who see illiterates as a polluted oasis
And the names of a poor member,
They hate to remember!
God isn't happy
And these preachers can doubt me
Because I have not even a follower
Like a man on the path so narrower.
Though I wasn't on the path
But He called me to the path,
Gave me a leverage
Just so I could deliver this message.
God cannot be mocked,
Even when I'm locked
Behind the darkest bars
Like forgotten toys in jalopy cars!