Atheist's Lament

No, I don't believe in god,
I've no faith in myth and fable;
I'll endorse the laws of science
in any garbled way I'm able.
And I don't believe in heaven -
at least not any bible's kind -
nor a spirit, nor a soul,
just the mystery of our mind.

Oh, but here's the funny thing:
I almost wish I do,
because then you could watch over me,
drop some hints and guide me through.

But I don't believe in ghosts,
that's why I dared not turn around,
because I knew that if I did,
I'd hate what I had found:
just a dead and empty room
with your picture on the wall,
no smiling apparition,
no hint of you at all.

And even though I'd love to see
your limping, loving wraith,
I'm not the kind of fool to fall
for the illusions of blind faith -

I don't need a psychic to tell me you love me,
to help me connect with that love I now lack;
you're not by my bed, you're not smiling above me,
you're just gone and you're never coming back.