In the face of it all –

the beast of destruction that threatens to undo

all that makes me feel safe,

the piercing wounds that burn my soul

until pleasure feels like a distant, delusional dream,

the unrelenting whys

that leave my mind drunken and hollow with their echoes…


In the face of it all I am drawn to despair

certain that God cannot be

or if God is, then evil;

But, something, somewhere will not allow me that resolution

In some forgotten cavern of myself is an angel

that insists on wrestling my dark certainties to the ground


God, seemingly so distant, forgive me

that I too often choose simple unbelief

over the struggle of faith

And keep disturbing my heart

so that the demons of fear and faithlessness are always shaken loose.