The refrain from the phonograph comes this way; Search for God with your heart, not with abstraction
Till your deeds are informed by a purified heart, one that that doesn't sway; No better will be your deeds than going around an idol in circumambulation
As long as spirituality lies dormant, moribund, and akin to lifeless clay; Nothing, but nothing, is to be gained from religious sparring, from wars of opposition
Futile is that faith which is devoid of God's true way; Servile, too, that faith from which absent is divine intervention
That religion which doesn't create conviction is idle sport, mere games that people play; That religion is drained of meaning which lacks God's support—it is, in fact, misdirection
That religion is from God wherein rivers of spirituality gush and hold sway; Without belief in a Living God, religion is robbed of its central dimension
That religion is from God which leads you to God's way; What use is that faith which offers no solution?
Otherwise, faith is enfeebled, enervated and lacking the power to stay; Unable to draw one out of the world's pull, slavishly following worldly gyration
Those lacking faith, undeveloped in spiritual insights, with mere lip profession at play; Idol-worship though they may have eschewed, they remain enslaved—in need of emancipation
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