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  • Writer's pictureAutumn Isobel Smith

AN AGNOSTIC'S LAMENT

I traveled long, I traveled far,

Over sea and under star,

But still I cannot find where I call home.

I've been to every waking place,

Looked into every single face,

Read all the words in every dusty tome.


I've been through dark, I've been through light,

I've praised the sun and feared the night,

And felt the cold down to my very bones.

I've seen the devil's lust for fire,

Faced the pagan gods' great ire,

Yet have no place that I can call my own.


I've been searching for a trace

Of some unearthly kind of grace,

Hoping for a sign to lead me on.

I've followed prophets in my dreams,

Written down their endless screams

To no end, I blink and then they're gone.


Life and death are everywhere,

I feel the spirits in the air,

Their voices are empty as the void.

Through open doors I thought I shut

Demons fall upon me, but

A home I never had can't be destroyed.


There's nothing here for me to hold,

To cling to as I grow old,

Just darkness hiding in my hollow heart.

On this I've shed my fill of tears,

All I'm left with are the fears

Of dying and from whom I'll be apart.


Faith is such a simple thing,

Yet I've no god of which to sing,

No psalms except this lonely little song.

The paths that opened unto me

Are paved with mediocrity

And I refuse them all, they feel wrong.


I traveled long, I traveled far,

Over sea and under star,

And still I cannot find where I call home.


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