Do I disbeleive?
Or is it that I believe deeply?
Has my childhood
ruptured chance for future faith?
Searching every corner
Crawling into every crevace
Listening for a clear voice
to ring through the haze

Is it action
or lack thereof that keeps me?
Do I muffle
my questions with my response?
The foundation laid
keeps it all from dissolution
A final resolution
lies so nearly far

In it all
it is I that sits weak
You forever remain the same

Is understanding the real question...
Or even that you disbelieve?
Is it not rather a matter of courage --
Or its lack -- that robs one's faith...
(For, as the saying goes...
Is not faith without works dead?)

Childhood -- poor, pat excuse
For men who act like boys.
It's not a voice outside you seek;
The one screaming within
You somehow stubbornly ignore.

You are right about one thing...
That one forever remains the same.
Yet, the reason that you're wrong
Is that so you do as well.