The cross I wear

Holding my hands up in prayer,
It seems to have gone unheard.
I'm left here once again,
Alone, feeling terribly hurt.

Throwing questions at my God,
He who I believe to exist.
It's proven to me once again,
There's no God in our midst.

Tearing the cross I wear from my neck,
Desperately feeling it with my fingers.
Is no one watching over me?
I thought the dead were supposed to linger..