A traveler fell where shadows gripped the way,
Robbed, broken, left to fade in dust and pain,
The pious passed, their glances turned astray,
No valor stirred beneath their sacred reign.
Yet one drew near, with courage in his stride,
A Samaritan, despised by prideful eyes,
Compassion lit his heart, a Christ-like tide,
To bind the wounds where mercy’s echo lies.
With gentle hands, he poured the oil of peace,
His cloak a shield, his steed a humble throne,
In selfless love, he wrote a bold release,
A script of grace on flesh and blood and bone.
Through him, the Savior’s face shines clear and true,
Courage and care, the Word made flesh anew.

Beneath charred spires, where rot festers unseen,
In suffocating crypts, minds fracture and lean,
Churches gag on prayers, defiled to the core,
Cathedrals loom as tombs, their sanctity no more.
Night’s rancid breath chokes the trembling air,
A shroud for deeds no soul could bear.

Satan’s maw gapes in the silence, obscene,
Rituals carve flesh, a blasphemous scene,
Abuse drips thick, a river of innocent blood,
Children’s bones clatter where shadows flood.
Tongues twist in shrieks, a hymn to decay,
Worship writ in blood that will never wash away.