The stained glass windows cast shadows deep,
In halls where silent prayers once wept,
Echoes of sermons, of sins to keep,
Linger in the hearts where faith once slept.

Unseen chains of tradition bind,
Souls seeking solace, yet hope they find,
In whispers of doubt, a troubled mind,
Searching for light, but shadows blind.

The cross, a symbol of pain and grace,
A paradox etched on every face,
In the quiet corners of this sacred place,
Where faith and fear often interlace.

Yet, through the cracks, a light does break,
Healing the wounds, for the soul’s sake,
In the journey of faith, steps one must take,
To find peace in the heart, and the chains to shake.