Between the Lines
Living a life of sacrifice, engulfed in what which is pure.
Living a life molded like clay, blind acceptance - no faith within.
Being taught morality, only to see (the) blasphemy.
What once warmed my insides has suddenly turned bitter cold.
The oppression was the hypocrisy which caused religion to fail me.
Spiritually starving, my hunger grew for a life of eternity.
Reaching overhead in search of faith, falling flat - still not in touch.
(But) letting fiction define morality is why religion has failed me.
(Now) I know where your devotion lies.
Right between the fucking lines.