A/N: This is not my point of view of Christians, please note!
The Damned
She's sitting in a cold, hard pew
In the center of the Sanctuary
the Holy Place
Surrounded by them that she loathes
Them that she knows so well
the so-called redeemed
arms lifted in praise to an unseen deity
eyes closed for appearances only
The man to the left
thinking over how long he can keep up his affair
without his wife knowing
The woman in the corner
bleary-eyed from a hangover
whose husband is divorcing her for her constant intoxication
The teenager at the front
Whose suffering the pain of drug addiction
and been abandoned by all her 'friends'
They are the two-faced
Their disguises of holiness are nearly flawless
But inside
they are the same stinking filth as everybody else
This is what the voice
her demon
tells her
as she looks around and the prayer begins
she withdraws and cowers within
Her eyes glaze over, face expressionless
Protecting her sinful self against the righteous
Every week
Can she endure it much longer
before she is so tainted by her greedy demon
that to come so near to a place of lost faith
She would finally lose herself
She, who is defiled by her own decisions
with scars as proof of her fall
She, who with no artistic talent,
draws a crude impression of their Christ
And unable to express his agony
She places the nails
Because if it was anyone who shouted crucifixion
Her demon taunts her by telling
it was she
And for her sins she knows
in a haze of confusion
that for her penance
She takes it upon herself as she leaves That Place
and with two slashes of the blade
the righteous will know what happens to sinners