Doubt

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

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I stand here consumed in doubt. My soul wonders if there's a way out. I see others around me appearing in joy. But perhaps they are simply hiding like me. Perhaps their face is simply a decoy. Inwardly they are on the verge, questioning if their demons will destroy.

I once read that many do not believe the beliefs they say. So have they truly found the truth? For this search is certainly not child's play. Do they stop once they have an inch of hope? Is their uncertainty a way to cope? Or did they simply roll the dice with their life and choose what would suffice? They've been enticed through a Heist and don't even realize it.

Or perhaps they have truly found the truth. They've discovered that it's so absolute that any contest is quickly turned to mute. For truly if such has been a confession, why would you began to question? But then I start to wonder, why do so many struggle with depression? The aggression of it all is no jam session, it's become a battle of oppression and possession that's soon been a progression of asking what profession will remove this transgression?

So I still ask why it's not more clear, if God is dear and absolute and His truth is not mute? God why are you so far away? I don't want you tomorrow I need you today. So I just sincerely hope that's it's not to late, to know it'll all be okay.

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