i can see my futures, they are set before my feet and i watch them over and over again until my mind feels as if it is bursting with numbness. on my left i see the months ahead leading me back home, into the arms of my love. everything i've endured accumulating into the moment when she is finally back home in my arms; i am alive. and then i look upon my right, and i am greeted with new misery. i can see them, carrying my casket and playing their fucking songs of sorrow. what a sad procession as they carry me off leaving everything i've loved and known behind, i can see the tears and i can see the bitterness.
is this god real? is there any use in calling on a thing that i so often rebuke and denounce? what end will he see me to? i want nothing more than to pass through this darkness, but doesn't everyman who steps foot on these savage grounds? don't boys of more faith and conviction ask god for his protection everyday, only to have their requests fall upon deaf ears? these men put their trust in something that in the end has no barring on their survival. who am i to ask for god, i don't even have the slightest notion in my heart if i believe that he exists and yet as i stood outside in the middle of the night staring at the stars above, why did i wrestle with my heart to call out to him? i have struggled with the thought of him since i can remember, and only been left with a fear of hell and now as i stare hell in the face i have no idea what i think. i am damned to sit on a fence of questions and unrest.
if there is a god above that listens to the calls of small men with hard hearts, then all i ask is that i come home, in one piece, to my love so i can continue to sit on my fence of debate and concern.
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