The Atheist's Plea

You stand apart, a shadow in the light, Denying faith, declaring God untrue. And yet, when facing the darkness, your face turns to white, You ask of me, to pray for you. You wound my Lord, with words of sharp disdain, A constant scoff, a reason to deny. Yet I can't help wondering if, does not he feel the sting, the aching pain, Of your rejection, cast against his very being? Making me question why I should plead, when you have doubted all along? Why should he hear a voice that knows no praise? My judgment flares, a feeling sharp and strong, To turn away and leave you all alone in your haze. But still, I kneel, and clasp my hands in prayer, For you, my friend, and for the flaw within. I am no better, burdened by despair, And prone to doubt and tempted into sin. Perhaps you need a whisper in the night, A gentle nudge to see his hidden divine glow. Perhaps a glimmer of light, Can pierce the dark and chase away the darkest in your mind. Of endless void, of purpose unfulfilled. And though your path diverges from my own, A seed of hope will start to grow. In this barren ground, And maybe on this barren ground a prayer may surely grow out just for you.