They bow before the carved deceit, Draped in crimson, seeking a cure in vain waters, Their hands stretch toward a hollow promise, A false angel, cold and unyielding, whispering lies. How vile their act, how wretched their trust in shadows! Yet grace abounds, a favor unearned, Mercy flows like a river, pure and unending, Washing away the stain of their delusion. For there is a beauty that never fades, A truth that shatters every counterfeit hope.