in a land where four languages are official
a church was named only in three; for the fourth
is the language of a weak and fragile faith
whose edicts are above the law of the land,
and whereof knowing a church's name is temptation
and the tempter the sinner and the tempted sinless;
a rock is evil for stumbling the weak,
and if truth offends the truthsayer dies,
and the thief blameless for the rich flaunts his gold;
thus protected by an unsheathed ****** sword
a faith strengthened with every tempter's death

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺-
𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘬.
𝘠𝘦𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥:
𝘚𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥.
𝘖𝘳-
𝘜𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺.
𝘉𝘶𝘵-
𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳:
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦.
𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳.
𝘍𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.
𝘉𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵.
𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚.
𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 '𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣'.

A Liar says this and does that.
Cries, "Insult!" at any hint of Truth.
Uses Violence as proof, for surely
only Truth is worthier than Death.

If what you hear
and what you see
are not the same,
what do you believe?

Your Eyes or your Fears?