Doubt

I approach most situations with a certain amount of doubt

Figuring that I do not know much at all

I will avoid any crusade, all quarrels and all bouts 

And just about everything against uncertainty's call

What I discern is that nothing has been learned

Who has said anything of consequence?

Why is substantive discourse obsessively yearned?

Only to succumb to dumb dissidence? 

In this uncertainty I have not been completely lost

I always knew that I possessed a certain control

And when I pray for sun and absorb frost

I knew that my prayer had doled

the Doubt that I didn't control the sky

The whole of chaos that remains immured

In the certainty of that conscious lie

That doubt's axioms are absurd 

I woke up dead one morning 

The night before convinced and knowing

Doubting that I'd die

That is where certainty lies