Among the sons of an accursed century
I took my place at the irreverent table,
Where still was heard, under all the revel,
The moan of a helpless thirst for infinity.

Like the rest, I spat onto the altar
A laugh made of blasphemy and disdain.
But one day my hardness was fatally shaken;
An alarm went off in my repentant heart!

Opening the dam to its pent-up tears,
My lonely soul, sad and weary,
Turned to God, unable to resist!

I shrouded my thinking in Belief;
In forgetting and inertia I found relief. . .
My only doubt is if God exists!