4. Prostration

I stand before you
I leave everything behind
I face you
Afraid to appear blind

I praise you
I praise your creation
I see its value
I bow down without option

I rise again
I rise to tell you
I'm only a madman
Here to serve you

And when I prostrate
All my sins fall off my back
And I can't sit straight
Because I backtrack

My forehead meets the ground
I praise you
And I am no longer drowned
In a black hue

I sit on the prayer rug
I pray to you
Because prayer is my drug
And only one to answer is you.

And my tears fall
As I realize once again
Without you I  stall
But you don't abandon me then.

I leave the prayer rug
Unfolded, inviting.
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