Response to Prayer

You think you’re free, but no one’s really free.
The will is compromised, it has no space
To move, to loaf around but, to save face,
We let you think your faith and constancy
Gets you the truth. But truth and falsity
Can’t be distinguished from the humble place
You occupy. There’s no wisdom, no grace,
No understanding. We’re a mystery.

But what’s the point of falling on your knees?
I’ll rise to Heaven in my chariot
While you can be the rogue Iscariot,
Rich for a day, fulfilling prophesies
Through fear and ignorance. I’m such a tease,
I’ve got you tangled in my lariat.