The Things We Left Unsaid

religious but not godly

In their eyes, a holy grace, 
Yet their hearts are cold, a bitter place. 
They preach of love, of paths so bright, 
But in their actions, there's no light.

Their faith is loud, their judgments clear, 
A constant weight, a silent fear. 
They speak of sin with scornful eyes, 
While failing to see their own disguise.

In every sermon, every prayer, 
Their godly words hang in the air. 
Yet in their home, no warmth is found, 
Just harsh rebukes and a hollow sound.

I grew beneath their stern facade, 
A child lost, seeking a god. 
But in their faith, I found no grace, 
Just a heavy, judgmental space.

Their love was wrapped in cold decree, 
A faith that never set me free. 
In their eyes, the world was wrong, 
While I stood silent, lost, and long.