The Skeptic

I glance and smile—but my simper betrays me

Its obvious I’m weak and oblivious to life…

as if there was some kind of life to live anyway.

I live in turmoil and breathe calamity

I am my own contraindication.

I live yet I am dead—I was, but am no more

I will rise again—just not on this day

At night while my body shivers ‘neath the starlight my mind screams of perversity…

as I cry for purity

I fear there is nothing that hears my plea—nothing that would turn me in any case

This silent charade speaks for itself—and you look down upon me and laugh

“This is amusing to you isn’t it!?”

“This holy war in my brain—will you ever tell me why?!”

“Why do you suffer me to horrid consequence??”

“Why create life just to damn it as meat for demons?!”

“This book—your word—this is supposed to give life—yet it breeds death!”

“Despite—I struggle to believe in you”

“Don’t just sit there looking down while my heart gives out and goes dark!”

“Speak to me!!!”

“Tell me to shut my wretched mouth and believe—and I will never again question you!!”

Written by Matthew – 1997 (this is an old conversation I had with God—who has since responded in the subtle ways that only He can—even Job shouted his grief to God)

© 2015 This Mortal Flesh


3 thoughts on “The Skeptic

  1. I think a lot of us have had this conversation, with God or with whatever power we feel might be out there.
    I recognise the pain and the struggle. I definitely identify with this, although I have just told you in my previous comment that I do not believe in God, only in some kind of undefined “higher power”.

    Liked by 1 person

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