Faith is a conduit between two parties
And prayer the pidgin, the lingua franca.
It is the conjecture of fluke
Made more mathematically favorable
When laid bare by soul.
And prayer, is calling for a higher power
While badass is a cry to be the central attraction.
And the only difference between a pew in a church
And the ring of a circus is, while prayers are mocked
As anthems of schizophrenics that hear the voice of god
Clowns do handstands to rush
Some much-needed blood to the brain.
Reality says we are all made to look like fools in this world.
Disenchantment is the noose that makes
The foolish sane; And tighter the noose is,
Man will start to imitate others, follow de-facto rules
And rebel to be custodians of peer-acclaim
When it is popularity that is a brainwashed psychosis
That hears ovations inside brains.
And where as some see faith as folly
Others see it as emancipation. Faith is far from foolish.
It is the implicit clarity that far is nearer than one thinks
Or the weight is lighter than the scales point to
And all the while, the clown will make noises
In front of a hall filled with rebels, challenging
The mainstays of tradition; forgetting that tradition
Is a port of embarkation, an asphalt carpet to journeys
Concrete to civilizations and a most merciful love
To the orthodoxy of credence.
And that expanse that empties mental spaces
Is only a borrowing of prayer. And schizophrenics call faith
A lifestyle choice in immanent existentialism.