I'm pulling the trigger with my eyes tight shut

Watching you dance, I feel like a hunter

In frigid woods, stalking unknowing prey.

You catch me with a small glance of wonder.

You fall to your knees in position to pray.

How can I fight a religion that way?

With that sudden look of recognition,

Knowing I'm the type of malcontent to say

There is nothing here for me worth seeing.

An absence here of a sense of being,

No facts but possession of the helpless,

You're on the ground praying and I'm kneeing

Your senseless, blank, peaceful form in the gut.

Sights set on the small wandering deer but

I'm pulling the trigger with my eyes tight shut.