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Again I find myself wishing that
The Universe was fair.
Or organized, at least, not so disjointed.
I wish I could believe,
That there's someone watching us.
But again I find myself just disappointed.
The Universe does
Not know about us.
One thing we should know;
We're just here to go
If I truly did believe,
Then I'd truly be relieved
Of responsibility
For my actions.
Again I find myself looking for reasons
That I know I won't find.
There are none, but we all look anyway.
There's no overmind
With plots and grand designs.
And if there was, how could he let us
Live this way?
The Universe does
Not care about us.
One thing we should know;
We're just here to go.
If I truly did believe,
Then I'd truly be relieved
Of responsibility
For my actions.
Wishing will not make him real.
Praying will not make him feel.
Dying will not help reveal
Any answers.
Every cruelty and
Every pestilence.
Every cancer and
Every tribute band.
All the anger,
All the hatred,
All the bullets,
All the racists,
All ignorance,
Every *** thing.
Again I find myself wishing that
I could believe the lies
Of madmen seeking profit and control.
If I could believe,
I'd live a life of ease;
No need to think,
Just playing out the role.
