The Church

Through the gate to meet an eerie peace;
A stillness so intense it chills the soul.
The stony army stand in ordered rows,
Desperate nature beginning to take its toll.

The snaking silver path, smooth and worn,
Meandering through the tangle like a river
To the heavy wooden door that will always open
Into a place so sacred it makes you shiver.

In this secret place the spirits whisper.
People are entranced by a force so strong.
Drawn by the promises of enlightenment,
In their eyes this power can do no wrong.