They claim their God is watching from a throne unseen,
While cities burn and children fall between.
“God is on our side,” they say with fire and steel,
But where is the love? Where’s the wound that will heal?
You ask for faith in shadows, blind and deep,
But faith won’t stop the bombs that steal our sleep.
If You’re the parent, hear the cries of the lost,
Prove You’re real—no more silence, no more cost.
A holy place where only priests can stand,
Guarded by angels, the Ark at their command.
All three faiths remember the box of wood and gold,
Carried to the front lines, thought it brought the good.
By Moses’ command, the Ark led the way,
But in the wars and bloodshed, did God ever stay?
Stop praying for me—pray for reality,
Pray your God explains to your enemy.
Pray for answers, not just dreams,
Step from shadows, tear down the seams.
Show Your love or show nothing at all,
If You’re the Savior, end this night’s fall.
Stop praying for me—pray for reality,
Pray your God explains to your enemy.
They carry the chalice from altar to the fight,
Claiming it brings mercy as they march into the night.
A cup meant for blessing now raised in the storm,
Sanctifying violence, calling bloodshed “reborn.”
From Gaza’s shattered temples to Ukraine’s battered ground,
The holy words are echoed, but no angels make a sound.
Two angels carved on the lid of the box,
Guarding silence behind temple locks.
God sits between them, hidden from our eyes,
While priests hold secrets and prophets disguise.
You carry that box to the front of the fight—
But where are the angels when wrong battles right?
Why the hidden holy place? Come out and show your face.
It’s way past time, thousands of years have passed—
End your absence at last.
Where only priests can hear your psalms,
I’m here to say I need to see the holes in your palms.
If God is real, why not speak to us all?
Why let the world suffer, why let the children fall?
Don’t pray for my soul—pray for the truth,
Pray your God brings peace, not more excuse.
If faith is a dream, it’s time to see,
Stop praying for me—pray for reality.
In every holy city, the blood runs through the street,
Each side claims the sacred, each side claims defeat.
They fight for relics, stones, and sand,
But where is mercy, the guiding hand?
If God is present, why does He hide?
Why watch silent as innocents die?
The Ark, the chalice, angels, the priest—
Are these just symbols, or signs of peace?
So I ask the questions, I challenge the claim,
If God is your witness, why play this game?
Why must the holy be hidden from view?
If God is for all, let Him speak to us too.
No more secrets, no more war,
No more silence we can’t ignore.
If You’re the Savior, end this night,
Show Your love or show no light.
If God is real, where is His plea for peace?
Where is His voice in this endless war?
Where is His voice in this endless war?
The silence, the absence is deafening.
GOD'S SILENCE , IS LOUDER THEN WAR .
Deafening , Deafening , Death Death