Of Agony And Hope

I'm Not A Believer

Bitter, with shaking doubt,
   Doubting the skeptic within.
Unlike a lion, who's sure about the wild instinct,
I'm more of a panda.

I can be a predator.
But why should I?
I like green too.

Rhyme is beautiful, but so is blank.
So is prose.
So is freedom, you know!

To pick is unfair.
I want to sleep.
I need to lay and think.

All is hypocrisy,
Some is confusing,
And nothing is senseless.

But ask the prey when my fangs pierce her veins,
And the skin cleaves,
Does she fancy red like I do?

Because i'm too excited to care,
But the scare in her eyes makes me wonder;
And when she is docile I scare too.

So do you see the same white I perceive?
I don't know.
Neither do you.

But I'm still doubtful.
Unlike man, who faithfully seeks god,
I'm more of a god myself.
I'm not a believer.