My mind sits on a Ferris wheel.
When I look at the ground
fear is minute and as I spin
around the skyline becomes clouded.
This is a lonely ride,
exhale, aware others feel this too.

Caught a glimpse of old friends
on their merry roller-coaster
rides, going along with the tide.

Jumping off this wagon
would make the irrational feelings be over.
My pride secures asking for help hostage.
Asking for help is to my voice box
what immigrants are to the US.

No gods, no fate,
not even yielding to chance
To live this one life
in full acceptance:

This will only happen once!

A stubborn strength
born of a conviction
That there is no soul
in need of absolution

That life is not made meaningful
by abstract metaphysical contortions
in favor of a jealous,
angry, cruel
deity
Purportedly in love with creation

Such is the choice of the humanist
in staunch opposition
to the zealot, the spiritualist
To stand on one's own feet
Acknowledging the grand mystery
Not willing to submit.