Confessional

Forgive me father,
For my undying faith
Has been lacking.
My agnosticism is carried
With me like a favorite accessory.

You've never shown me divinity
Or omnipotence or grace.
You've shown warning signs
Of disaster, fire alarms, red flags,
The awakening of a serial killer.

It's no wonder I choose stoicism.
It's no wonder I choose detachment.
It's no wonder I accept pseudo-love.
Conditional love with rewards
And of course, lashes for my sins.

Forbidden tears and omitting eyes
Fill the pews on Sunday mornings
Waiting to catch a glimpse
Of this alleged mercy and compassion
The books tell tales of.

But like an oasis in the Gobi,
It's simply a flighty mirage
Threatening to lure the most steadfast
To a most arid desiccation.