THE WORSHIP OF IDOLS
In temples of stone, where shadows dance,
Idols stand, in a divine trance.
A worship of forms, crafted by hand,
Yet beneath the surface, a cautionary stand.
Idols of gold, adorned with care,
Yet their worship carries burdens rare.
For in the fervor of devotion blind,
Neglect of the living, a peril to find.
As hearts bow to statues, cold and still,
Neglect creeps in, a silent ill.
The living suffer, the hungry cry,
Yet eyes fixed on idols in the sky.
In the shrine's glow, shadows cast,
A danger emerges, profound and vast.
For when the idol's worshipped above,
Compassion may wane, drowned in self-love.
Divine symbols twisted to justify,
Injustice, cruelty, and a callous eye.
Idols may stand as a moral shield,
Yet tarnished ideals, their worship can yield.
The impoverished streets, the cries unheard,
As devotion fixates on the sculpted word.
In the temple's echo, compassion is lost,
A hidden price, a heavy cost.
Let not the idol, with cold, stone eyes,
Drown out the human heart's soft cries.
For in worshiping the tangible divine,
Let kindness and empathy brightly shine.
In the shadow of idols, let justice stand,
Hold the weak with a helping hand.
For a faith that turns a blind eye,
Harbors seeds of a society's slow decay.
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