The Eternal Question: God, No God, Maybe God

Sometimes I fear I've never known you Like a leaf might feel It knows its mother tree Until she sheds its crispy remains, Only to let its pieces wither Into the same substance That gave them both life I wonder Is this life? To live, Only to languish; To love, Only to lament; To long, Only to lose? To render, Only to revoke? This is what I fear you have become It is what my body understands But my blood refuses to accept My blood - Engraved upon the palms of Your hands - The demands of justice Cleansed by your grace That transformed me But not before my bandwidth snapped, And the strands left beating Forgot how to feel Who am I? A shepherd's lamb? Or a damned soul - My sole purpose for servitude? I haven't known what to believe, Weaving in between the lines of earth and water - A dangerous place to be, Where crocodiles lie waiting For the one who lingers a little... too... long... Snap I've never really believed in fairytales I used to believe in love And I long to believe in both I suppose the one thing waiting has taught me Is that belief is a choice, And sometimes choosing burns you, But that doesn't necessarily mean You were wrong in the choosing - Maybe fairytales were written for a reason For reasons beyond human reasoning - For seasons come and seasons go, Just as the sun rises And the sun sets But If I am set on believing In eternal winters And immortal nights, Then spring will never come, Neither the sun rise Maybe that is how hell has come to be - By choosing to disbelieve that which is real, That which is truth, That which is light, That which is life That which is written Into each chasm Of our inner and outer shells, That which dwells in the very cells Of our existence- For to deny life is to deny oneself How could that not be hell Itself? So My choice? Truthfully, I don't know you, Though I know I need to The real you I'm not confident in what I will find, But I know what I must do And all that's left Is trust And the choosing