When hopelessness or passion's throes ignites us, <br />lost emotion casts confusion everywhere. <br />When hatred of our flesh's prison grates us, <br />how much easier is forgetting that we care? <br />Where we turn to in the furnace glare is telling, <br />whether up or in is more than circumstance. <br />Where we run to seeking comfort is our heart's truth <br />just a cry for absolution's withered chance. <br />Do we run the risk of giving up the certain <br />for subjective hells of sanity and science? <br />Do we easily forget how fast we're broken, <br />that we've never been a race for self reliance? <br />Is salvation such a dangerous conclusion <br />can we not believe the father or the wraith? <br />Is creation just a fallable illusion <br />isn't lack of proof a tete a tete with faith? <br />It's funny where the arguments can take us, <br />hither tither, yonder yore, or anywhere. <br />It's funny how, when sanity starts slipping, <br />we're occupied with poetry and prayer.<br /><br />Poet Dragon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-and-prayer/
