What do you do when there are no words to express

all the thoughts you've barely fathomed into a conscious stream?

Where do you go when the days that are supposed to be the best of your life turn into a bad dream?

How am I supposed to remain faithful when all I can do is feel angry?

Is this my conscience

or am I believing in some false witness that's been told to rule above me?

The fear of God has been instilled in me since birth

because my dad always told me that He was the measure of my worth.

But when I die do I just lie six feet underground,

or do I get wings and float among the clouds?

I'm not scared of dying, it's the scorching flames I fear;

the burning brimstone far from the ones I held dear.

As the swirling winds take my soul far below,

will my dad be in heaven saying the familiar

"I told you so."

I swear I'm not scared of death,

I could go anytime.

It's that I'm scared of a worse hell than I've been in

most of my life.

What is faith and how do you find it?

Because this crippling fear has got me crouching behind it.

I want to be strong in what I believe

but I'm having the hardest time with what the afterlife means to me.

If I'm being honest I don't feel what I should

But if I try hard enough

I think that I could.

But after 884 Sundays spent in the same pew

I still can't believe in what everyone wants me to.

So if I don't believe then why am I scared?

It's something to which a war could easily be compared.

The one above me died for the ones below me

but if he's working for me

why won't he show me?