<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=450656" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ghost of Churches Past</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Ghost of Churches Past</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A stately edifice it stands alone<br>For sale to any buyer.<br>The patrons of this church<br>Have fled to ground much higher.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They loved their God <br>And true they were<br>They sought out higher ground<br>For in a cold stone building<br>Their God they never found.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They drank the spirit willingly <br>They prayed the sacred words<br>But when the cry from heaven came<br>The elders never heard. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The charlatans of prayer<br>They steal our weary souls<br>With promises of salvation.<br>These swindlers of <br>mans hope and fear<br>Will never save our nation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They tuck our weary hearts into<br>that dark and dreary night. <br>With promises of heaven.<br>We shan't give up the fight. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every measure to a man<br>and to a woman praying<br>The children cry, the old ones die, <br>and none of them are saying.<br>What's in their hearts, its no mistake<br>For the God within is true.<br>And if we follow our heart strings<br>We'll give the Lord His due. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will the great deception, <br>the cyanide of our own blind<br>faith release us from this world<br>and its cruel claim to fame? <br>And whose to say <br>we would know our Lord <br>if he finally came.<br> <br>Never! Sings the birds sweet song, <br>pure joy this Easter morn. <br>From the bondage of this ruse<br>we finally will be torn.<br> <br>Only the light of understanding<br>will lift the dark veil of this<br>dreary abode and roll the <br>stone from that sepulcher <br>of our dark dream. For what<br>we thought and what we know<br>is never what it seemed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No longer will we worship<br>in a stone temple to a living God <br>who would rather be<br>remembered midst the <br>misty morning fog.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath the oracles <br>of His holy presence <br>where the Redwoods<br>kiss the Sea.<br>I'll find my God, <br>my fellow man<br>and finally will I see.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That God is here<br>and so am I.<br>No need to say<br>much more.<br>The open fount<br>of wisdom's love <br>has been an open door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lynne+FincherSpringarden">Lynne FincherSpringarden</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=450656" data-title="Ghost of Churches Past de Lynne FincherSpringarden" data-description="The Ghost of Churches Past A stately edifice it stands alone For sale to any buyer. The patrons of this church Have fled to ground much higher. They loved their God And true they were They sought out higher ground For in a cold stone building T..."></div> </div> </div>

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