Exalted Me Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

I visited a new church
Just this Sunday past.
Before it was close to finished,
I ran out of there quite fast.

The drums were banging loudly.
The guitars deafened my ears.
The singers sounded a lot like natives,
Before warriors battled with their spears.

My spirit felt no worship
Was coming from their songs.
I came to sing His praises,
Not a rock and roll sing along.

This movement takes no prisoners.
There won't be an alter call.
Just exalted Hollywood nonsense.
I saw no hymnals there at all.

If the Lord had come that minute,
He would have cast all from His house.
Just like the money changers,
And the evil that was espoused.

All can worship in their own way,
I always hear it said.
But it only took me a minute,
To know worship there was dead!