There's a war raging from the pulpit to the pew
Swords drawn in hands of a righteous few
Battles rage against ideals, truth, and deceptions
Servants of God clash against wolves directions.
The wounds bled are heavy and deep
Among those who labor among God's sheep.
To teach men well to feed their souls
Rather than amass wealth to fill vacant holes.
Predators fleece the flock and distort sacred texts
Delusions rampant, pride loud, the discerning vexed.
They sit with bow ties, tweed vests, and apostacy
Casting reels with non-truth as if to bait me.
I clash and wage war with unlearned men
that those with eyes may not follow them
I study to show where I myself be wrong
Accepting correction is an isolating song
Truth in ways blinds you with all who cant see
It will grieve you at the lost, the cost, to be free.
Churches are many, but stocked with so few men
That grieve and confess and despise their own sin
I'm no righteous man, for sin daily pains me in my heart
As God be true and men liars I labor for light in the dark.
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