Will you, Lord, still answer me?

A song of

want.

Spun from the depths of the heart,

echoing softly, fading into

nothingness.

Faithless.

I keep asking

Help wanted.

Needed.

But groundless faith

like bubbles pricked, burst

into groundless doubt.

The stars plastered to

the cavernous sky

seem as smoky,

distant,

as what I asked

from God.

Has desire become demand?

I hope-

not.

Why then, has faith

fishily slipped away? Perhaps

it is the

choice

of the unfaithful.

As affirmation you sense

my silent plea,

Will you, Lord,

still answer me?