Atheist Nightmare
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009

 

There is a preacher, on my porche
And he shows me, no remorse
He doesn't leave, come night - come day
He does not every seize to pray

There is a preacher, on my porche
And he just won't go away
I tried to scare him with a torch
I tried to frighten him in vein

He stands there when the sun shines
And he stands there yet - in rain
I've begun to think he's an illusion
I've begun to think I've gone insane

He stands there when I go out
And he's still there when I go in
Inside I closed all the curtains
But it seems I can't hide anything

It seems he sees right through me
Though he sais - not a phrase
It seems like he already knew me
Before he came to my place

Even though I have never met him
Or will ever acknowledge his presence
The preacher has already stepped in
To my life and its very essence

And it chills me to the very bone
Knowing that I'm no more alone
Knowing that whatever I do
The preacher is present too