Scared

I am so scared
Not from Mortality
Not from Death
Not from Failure
Not from Blood
I am so scared
Not of Gluttony
Not of Sin
Not of Mirth
Not of Hubris
I am so scared
Not of Life
Not of Death
Not of Betrayal
Not to Trust
I am so scared


Scared of God, The things that's unseen
That thing with power, ruining and making lives
Who decides what's right, who decides what's wrong?
It's my life, I should own it but I don't.


As a child my mother forced me to join my hands and pray to that thing in the sky
I still do the same, as habits die hard
I have done nothing wrong , but still I am paying and undeserving
Why should I pray anymore?
Who the hell is up there, why doesn't it show itself


I am scared, if it is there it would punish me.