Dear Father of good and ill
Let Your words be my will
Lead me to the streams ever so still
Or perhaps You can first listen
For I can not see Your eyes glisten
Please do not abandon this son

I do not believe in coincidence
Yet I can not find meaning in life
I believe life is brutally fair
Yet I find myself tormented by fate
Can I blame You for the illness
Or should I bless You for the stillness

Why is it hard to run to You?
Truly it is hard to trust that which I do not see
Why is it hard to be mad at You?
Truly it is hard to hate that which I do not know
Why is it hard to blame You?
Truly it is hard to blame that which is innocent

I am sure this letter will return to sender
Yet I fail to discern the offender
Have I been misled by ghosts and whispers
Or must I consume again the scriptures
Is God the author of my misfortune
Or is luck my soul’s warden
I fear answers will only come when I’m lifeless
For God could never break His silence