Some find solace in their prayers for me,
They beg for me to receive forgiveness.
Their very kind and well-intentioned plea,
Screamed into their mind's endless nothingness.

I plead for similar absolution.
Although it answers to another name.
Their prayers, real as my obsession,
Are, to me, somehow deserving of blame.

I am but a hypocritical fraud,
Comforted by a fabricated lie,
Yet I condemn their fabricated God.
All while I constantly indemnify.

My god comes from deep within my own soul.
A god with unassailable control.