Who are the ones who have faith above all,

The ones who bets their life on which side the coin falls,

Who holds their breathe as the finale draws near,

But out of anticipation, not fear.

Is it the priest, the man of god,

Whose faith in the next world seems so odd,

The man who walks with unwavering grace,

As the masses try to tear him down and hang him with sinful lace.

Who never stops preaching to the lost crowd,

Those who mock him in all but aloud.

Is it the teacher, the speaker of the word,

Whose faith in knowledge is spurned.

The one who speaks with zealous fire,

As another day gives birth to another liar.

And so it begin another tale,

As knowledge burns from head to tail.

Is it the pregnant mother, the carrier of her child,

Whose faith in her baby stays in a world so wild?

The newborn will be her moon and sun,

Her belief will not shake even if she's the only one.

To her this young one will be worth paying any toll,

She will be responsible for this one's soul