an agnostic's prayer in poetry

  • Aug. 30, 2022, 9:51 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

wear me out, Lord
give me that at least
make this confusing life
so exhausting that when
it all comes to an end
when I finally lay dying
I will be so fucking tired
I will be so tuckered out
that final sense of relief
will cancel out the fear
of becoming total nothing
under the gaping expanse
of your total indifference
of your vast heavenless sky
c’mon, you infinite bastard
give me that at least
burn me out completely
past the point of anxiety
past the point of caring
it is the easiest task
the least I could ask


No comments.

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.