I am oh so very frustrated,
Every time that I pray.
I hope so hard there is a god,
I’ve convinced myself there must be a way.

This life I life cannot be the end.
I cannot live deprived of plans,
Crafted and mulled over in my creator’s mighty hands.
I need to have a purpose.
I don’t want to live for just a life.
And what’s the point
In pressing on for just worldly strife?

If no god exists,
Then when I die,
I’m neither here nor anywhere,
Indefinitely interred in the earth.
My condemnation record bare.

If there is no god above,
There is no wrong or right.
There is no sadness in a death,
If all there is, is day and night.

When I close my eyes and cry,
It’s not because I pray.
It’s my hands clasped in desperate frustration,
Hoping that I will find my god someday.