A "Weak" of Worship

A poem regarding the decay of pure religion.

 They got married on Friday 

at our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. 

While she was left only to whisper,

“Maybe... I’ll love him tomorrow” 

Her face was still covered 

well before and well after I do. 

Beat into their minds by 

that sacred doctrine untrue. 

 

The shouts that fell upon her 

were all filed with great cheer.

 but the only emotion she had left

was one of great fear.

By that night he saw her 

for the very first time.

And while they called it holy

others branded it as crime. 

 

It’s a long way to heaven. 

We’re halfway in between. 

To each his point of view 

but only we know what they mean. 

 

They moved in on Saturday.

She cooked him their first meal,

but it was thrown in her face.

No shellfish, no pork, no veal.     

They were supposed to teach

to honor and love your mate.

But for them to change things now

would be much much too late. 

 

A new fad hits the market.

God follows suit. 

It starts in one temple,

to the pied piper’s flute. 

And though they ignore

what’s well-tread and old. 

The man brings his wife,

and she does as she’s told. 

 

It’s a long way to heaven. 

We’re halfway in between. 

To each his point of view 

but only we know what they mean. 

 

 

They worshiped on Sunday. 

but five times that day. 

and once for yesterday’s sabbath, 

and with a statue to pray. 

She walked ten feet behind, 

but was still one step ahead.

She questioned sin once again. 

When they laid down for bed.  

 

But thoughts were the enemy, 

one of the lord’s temptations. 

All the same with learning

and feeling new sensations. 

It’s wrong to be with who you love, 

that was not the Lord’s intent.

You find one way to pass the day

and pretend to be content. 

 

It’s a long way to heaven. 

We’re halfway in between. 

To each his point of view 

but only we know what they mean.

 

He left for the West on Monday, 

and she was there with child.  

She tried to turn to her God for help 

but her faith had been defiled.  

How could she stand-up 

when she had been only taught to bow? 

How could she consider the afterlife,

when the current life was now? 

 

It’s a long way to heaven. 

We’re halfway in between. 

To each his point of view 

but only we know what they mean.

 

On Tuesday she met another man. 

On Wednesday she had sinned.  

On Thursday she just gave up. 

On Friday, she caused it all to end. 

 

Author's Note

I realize that the meter varies a lot but that is intentional to draw attention to certain stanzas and lines.

Reviews

[Damian Alan Gray]

This was beautifully sad and it makes a strong statement toward how we all view religious dogma, no matter our particular faith. Well done. The only amendment that I would make is to delete the follow-up stanzas. I would have simply ended it with the line:
"On Friday, she caused it all to end."
The stanzas following this are unnecessary because they reiterate a story, already wonderfully told.
Otherwise, I thought it was a great poem.

[Not Afraid of Bruises]

I really like how you varied the stanzas - I think it works well with the piece. and bit long, but I wouldn't change a thing :)

very interesting,it's a great idea,I enjoyed reading it.

[Sarah]

First four lines I think are the strongest in the poem. (: It was very interesting to read, although I think I may have gotten lost somewhere in there. xD