You kneel
on pavement pews,
palms pressed against
the sacred cracks,
feeling earth's heartbeat
whisper rebellions
through stone scripture.
Moss rises
like defiant prayers,
breaking sermons
of silence,
roots carving truth
beneath holy concrete lies.
Between your fingertips,
green hymns bloom,
undoing foundations
built from empty blessings.
Faith
was never meant
to be quiet—
only seeds know
the strength required
to fracture
what refuses to grow.
