eyes closed, palms together,
fevered whispers and murmurs,
tears, anger and everything in between.

today i don’t ask for what i did then.
then, i dint know i would,
one day ask for what i do today.

what if my prayers were accepted?
what if i was granted what i prayed for?
life as i know now it wouldn’t be.
a life i no longer want.
a life i pray i never have to want again.

so why do we pray?
why murmur? why whisper?
why fast? why fear? why cry?
why bargain? why do all we do?

why, when the ask isn’t done
something better
or worse.
life is written,
we play along.
so why pray, at all?

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