Nothing to Pray For

What if I had nothing to pray for?

Knowing fully I had had enough

What if I overstayed my welcome?

Never to find my healing touch

What if I was weary from treading?

Too long in the pools of your eyes

What if I wanted something real?

Opposed to the depths of disguise

What if I wanted to be convinced?

Needing no more wounds to my pride

Would I even know where to find it?

Or still have no idea where it hides

What if I want a sense of direction?

While walking through this forest of spite

What if I wanted conviction?

Fleeing from trees that cast out the light

Was there ever a moment when I felt sure?

And will there ever be time like that again?

What if I had nothing to pray for?

Except for flagpoles holding my sin

Along with white flags of battles

I truly, never even wanted to win