The Fallen Church

A tempest stirs, a grievous wave,  
My heart shatters for those left to crave,  
For trust betrayed, for lives undone,  
By men who once stood, now they run.  
 
The sacred name of Christ now smeared,  
His church defiled, by those once revered,  
Their hearts corrupted, their hands unclean,  
They sought the lusts that could not be seen.  
 
The catalogue of ruin grows with haste,  
A parade of leaders who've lost their grace,  
Apostates in shadows, hearts turned to stone,  
From faith once vibrant, now wholly alone.  
 
An onslaught of disclosures, vile and base,  
Darkened secrets unveiled in disgrace,  
Sexual sins, abuses of spirit and mind,  
Criminal deeds, of the vilest kind.  
 
How does one reckon with a man betrayed,  
When the lies are thick, the truth delayed?  
How sick, how jaded, the heart must be,  
To wrestle with the loss of sanctity.  
 
Hypocrites thrive in their glittering dens,  
Throwing stones while their own house bends;  
Counting blessings in coin and debt,  
Blinded by riches, lost in regret.  
 
The church, once radiant, now wears the stain,  
Too many scandals, too much pain.  
False prophets stand, their altars cracked,  
Deeds of darkness that time won't retract.  
 
Lust cloaked in the semblance of light,  
These Devils dressed in white, preaching what's wrong and right,  
Telling us how to quell our deep sighs,  
Do they not know the cost of their lies?  
 
Do they not see the soul they have sold,  
For the fleeting thrill of power they hold?  
Why do they dance on the backs of the weak,  
Leading the faithful, with lies they do speak?  
 
Is there no God, or is He just being ignored,  
As we watch them exploit, deceive, and hoard?  
Why do they cast away truth if its pure,  
To feed their desires, their hunger obscure?  
 
A wave of sorrow, a tempest of ire,  
A reckoning soon for those who conspire.  
The church, the broken, left the reborn,  
Yearning for something as people they mourn.