In Sacred Shadows: The Landscape of Belief
In lands of waste where refuse finds its keep,
Religion, like a heap, in shadows steep.
Each castoff creed, a relic of belief,
In mounds of thought, finds solace, not relief.
As garbage grows, so too the faiths entwine,
In tangled truths, where dogmas intertwine.
The sacred texts, like littered scraps, they lay,
In disarray, where vultures oft' survey.
Yet in this heap, a solemn hope resides,
A glimmering truth, where faith survives.
For in the waste, a seed of truth is sown,
In landfills deep, where sacred light is shown.
Though cast aside, these doctrines old and worn,
Like refuse, hold the essence once adorned.
In every scrap, a story to be told,
In junkyard faiths, beliefs that still hold.
So like a landfill, vast in its array,
Religion holds the remnants of the day.
In every piece, a part of something more,
A landfill's depth, faith's ever-growing lore.
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