I’ve tried so hard to maintain my faith, hoping you would always be around, But I’ve done so much thinking lately, and here is what I have found. You do not respond to my cries of pain, stone dead silence is the best you can do, Like a phone call that goes unreturned, causing my anxiety to constantly brew. If you really did exist, you would not hesitate to be seen and to offer a greeting, But you don’t, as we know, and you never do show, not as much as a 1 second meeting. I believe in the hereafter, honest I do, like a book with an author unknown, Our lives have been born, but we don’t really know, was it due to an explosion of stone? We don’t need to know how, we don’t need to know why, to this planet we’ve been placed, We need to make the best of it for now, so who cares from where the origin has been based? Most men say you work in mysterious ways, surely an excuse for all of the ages, I’ve yet to make sense, of your holiest books, and I’ve searched among all of the pages. It seems to me, that for men to live right, all they need is their conscience within, Remove petty rules, all the outrageous tales, and the endless list of man’s sin. Common sense is enough, for we know wrong from right, not rocket science at all, Which defies ignorance, and original sin, having us all blamed for one man‘s fall. Just the same, shall there be no more blamed, by a proxy death by a savior? Shouldn’t all men take account, to their own self be true, and resolve their own behavior? It’s silly I know, to address this to you, since I’ve concluded you just don’t exist, But I had to express, get this off of my chest, and learn how to unclench my fist. Letting go of the past, is the only way out, or freedom I will never ever find, To be true to myself, put my fears on the shelf, and allow myself to unwind. This is my choice alone, please respect it I ask, on others I won’t force my views, We all have individual lives, trials and such, and must walk in our very own shoes.